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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26030944">Before Sunrise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/innsaei/pseuds/innsaei'>innsaei</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Acceptance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Based on all the bright places/midnight sun, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, It does get sad but bear with me, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Memories, Neighbours, Not Beta Read, Small Towns, Summer Love, Terminal Illness, just dont run away because of the mcd tag, soft, wanderings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:35:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>33,041</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26030944</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/innsaei/pseuds/innsaei</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a new town and Iwaizumi learns of the buildings, the streets, the people and places through the eyes of the boy who lives across his house. There is love and so much love and time that doesn't seem to stop for anyone, running out by every second. There is Oikawa Tooru, flawlessly beautiful putting the stars to shame and Iwaizumi Hajime bargains with the universe for longer midsummer nights to love him. </p><p>It's the story of one summer when Oikawa runs across neighbourhoods weaving memories into the curves and edges of Tome and Iwaizumi learns of love in counted days under July midnight skies, knowing someone like Oikawa Tooru can never lose to the universe.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>iwaoi</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. the first time our lines crossed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>PLEASE DO READ THIS.<br/>Firstly, this fic is a tribute to the idea of wanderings from All the bright places. Secondly and most importantly, I understand the concept of MCD doesn't appeal to all but I set out trying to attempt something in this fic and I hope by the time you finish reading it, you'll understand. Yes, this is an MCD but this is a story about acceptance and what happens when you accept it. We don't always win in the end, so it comes down to how you want to be remembered.<br/>Please do understand there will be slight tweaking of the real places and medical symptoms here. There is only so much pain that I can put my characters through ( i really am sorry).<br/>I hope you enjoy it and I would love to read your comments. And if you do live threads on twitter, please tag me @lovingoikawa_ so that I can see your reactions.<br/>i have attached a link for the playlist here. I beg, it makes so much sense to read the fic with it.please listen to the playlist <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5nOcWqzF5x4PtElF8gwgrB?si=Lg9SfQZRQd6_1uoIhJ4k4w">here</a> while you're reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Have you paid the movers and packers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Iwaizumi’s mother calls out from downstairs as he unwraps the last carton and pushes it into the corner next to his bed. There are at least four more lying haphazardly on the floor, his clothes and books strewn around and tumbling out. Carelessly ripped off brown tape lay about alongside his newly brought speakers and bedside lamp. Wiping his forehead with the back of his sleeves, he opens the door and hops down the narrow staircase, his flip flops slapping against the wooden board.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did. But they will be coming again tomorrow with the furniture.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He answers,his voice echoing back from the bare living room, as he opens the sliding door leading to the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mother is putting away the last of their cutlery into the cabinet on top. Upon hearing him,she nods, clearly exhausted by the long drive from Tokyo in the morning along with the absolute chaos of moving houses. They had driven down, cramped in their minivan between their luggage and small furniture, bodies bending in all sorts of ways possible. The air conditioner had not even been enough to battle the July summer heat with its high humidity. Iwaizumi had vowed the moment they had reached their new home about never stepping into a minivan again. Atleast not for a year. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Smiling tiredly, he presses her shoulders before pushing her towards the chair. The plastic covers are still on, the chairs having been brought right before they moved. She flops down on it without any complaints, groaning slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should rest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hands her a bottle of packaged water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “We will settle everything tomorrow properly when dad comes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pressing her back, she closes her eyes before muttering something about dinner and the garden overrun with weeds outside. Closing the open bottle for her, Iwaizumi steps towards the kitchen counter and looks outside through the window above the kitchen stove. From their kitchen, they have a good vantage point of their street.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Outside the sun has dipped, the orange of fire hearths and tangerine spreading across the sky as the strokes of magenta and lilac approached from the west, heralding the arrival of the first star. It is in striking contrast with the street running below.The street looks like an unfinished painting, with so much of white around it. White two-storied buildings, white lines drawn on the side, white </span>
  <em>
    <span>ume </span>
  </em>
  <span>flowers dangling from branches of trees lining the street. Almost as if waiting for the artist’s hands to return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is surreal to be able to hear the distinct chatter of their neighbours chatting outside as a random sound of a car interrupts ever so rarely. Above, silhouettes of birds fly home with their flapping wings cutting through the settling stillness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So unlike Tokyo.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Iwaizumi?”, his mother’s voice breaks through his chain of thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Startled, he coughs softly before turning back, shoving his hands into his pockets. He makes a small noise at the back of his throat in response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was asking whether you like it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like what?”, he says, tilting his head slightly and looking at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This place. I know it is so different from your bustling Tokyo life but you know, it’s our home now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She props her head on her resting elbow, her ever so cautious eyes watching him fondly, the grey strand of her hair grazing her cheeks in the slight breeze that enters through the open window.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah,</span>
  </em>
  <span>he nods in realization before smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Tome is a small and quaint little town compared to the bustling Tokyo he grew up in. There are no neon sign boards, no hurrying footsteps, no cacophony of conversations between strangers and definitely no blaring rooftop music from the restaurant that used to be next to their old apartment building. But he feels relaxed and calm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hajime gazes softly at the street outside before answering, “I’ll be here for a year before college. I think I can use some peace of mind.Besides Tokyo was starting to get suffocating.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Home</span>
  </em>
  <span> sounds a little too fast-paced for right now but he likes the idea. Tokyo was just like every other city, alone in a crowd of ever-increasing multitude of strangers. Maybe identities and relationships are not so blurred in small towns. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Home. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He runs the word through his head over and over again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mother’s soft laughter echoes in the still empty kitchen, under the warm yellow light as she gets up and ruffles his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sound like an old man." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She says between giggles, her tiny frame tiptoeing to pat Iwaizumi on the head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Maybe you will come to love this place, you never know. "</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She whispers before turning and walking away, the smile in her voice lingering in the air around him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I hope so. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He thinks, watching her retreating form, before grabbing the phone to find some restaurant for home delivery.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi lets out a long sigh as he crosses one foot across the window sill and lifts himself up. Leaning back and resting on the cool window frame, he swings his dangling legs and closes his eyes as he feels the breeze pick up. It is a clear night and the air is cooler and damper that it had been the whole day. He feels a content smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he opens his eyes to take in the glint of starlight. Below him, the myriads of shadows fall on the asphalt as the street lamps illuminate the invading darkness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gazes with curious eyes at the house opposite to his. It is a two-storied house, painted in gleaming white like the rest of the neighbourhood. There are warm tone tiles around the slope leading to the main door and under the light of the streetlamp right outside the garden fence, Iwaizumi notes the carefully planted rows of vegetables and creepers winding around the wooden fence. He whistles softly as his eyes travel upwards towards the window facing his room directly. There are small potted plants hanging from the balcony rails. Suddenly he sits up, his eyes squinting as he does a double take.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What in the world?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He leans forward a little to take in the windows with a bemused smile on his face. They are windows for sure but the blackout shades are hard to miss by, drawn across all four panes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>People are doing all sorts of stuff behind those shades.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanamaki’s face pops up in his head, a memory from three years ago when both of them had sneaked out in the middle of the night to roam in Tokyo. Iwaizumi sniggers before making a mental note to text him later. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I might have to stop looking around so much.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He mutters in his head as he watches the window for another long curious second before tearing his head away. He suddenly pauses mid-movement as he feels a cold chill running down his spine. His skin bristles with the vibration in the wind as he hears the first distinct note of a song. It is more of a hum, less of a song, snaking its way through the narrow street and curving around Iwaizumi’s form. He slowly cranes his head watching the lump of a mass appearing from the bend of the street. Iwaizumi feels his heartbeat accelerating, each beat seeming to reverberate in the silence of the night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The person or whoever is humming slowly approaches where his house is and he suddenly finds himself racing back to Tokyo in his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So much for loving this ghost town.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He sits there, frozen and unmoving as his ears pick up the tune of the song.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It sounds oddly familiar yet haunting, settling in the space around him and washing over his still self. The approaching form slowly becomes distinct. A head, long limbs, an object in the right hand and-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“WHAT THE FUCK?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi almost slips off the window sill as a loud voice rings out throwing him off. He steadies himself with his right arm before focusing on the figure who was now standing in the middle of the street right in front of his house. Pale skin, tall frame and brown fluffy hair slightly pushed off the forehead, probably by the wind or by continuously running his hand through them. His white shirt clings on to his frame, the grey joggers hanging a little lower.The warm yellow street light illuminates his left profile and even with the other half in the shadow, Iwaizumi knows he has gorgeous features. His face is tilted upwards, the light from above highlighting the way his eyes curve at the corner and Iwaizumi unconsciously notes the perfect curve of his nose and divot above his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yup, he is gorgeous.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span> Except he is scowling right now. And it’s directed at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Immediately a wave of defensiveness engulfs him as he scowls back. If he hadn’t been walking on the streets at 3 am humming a haunting tune, maybe Iwaizumi would not have been scared out of his mind. Not that he would ever admit to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you yelling for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shoots back, hopping off the sill and standing,his arms naturally crossing in front of his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were literally hanging off the window!”,the tall brunette yells, his voice echoing in the empty street and rudely disturbing the tranquility. He huffs before continuing, “Imagine how you looked from afar! Why were you even acting like Jack Frost on the moon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi blinks furiously as an incredulous look clouds his features.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are one to complain when you are humming creepily at 3 am on the streets.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He mutters loudly, annoyance laced into every word. There is the approaching sign of a headache as he feels sleep slowly seeping into his eyes sans this rude interaction with the first soul he meets in Tome.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> The other one squawks indignantly and Iwaizumi almost chortles at his hypocrisy. The dramatic flair of him is amusing, he admits to himself reluctantly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Both of them fall silent, watching each other with very obvious caution. There is a shift in the air infinitesimally as Iwaizumi considers apologizing for a brief second. He doesn’t want to start off on a bad note in the new town and he is partially at fault, hanging outside the window at 3 am. Raising his arm to scratch the back of his neck, he opens his mouth fumbling over what to say when a dog barks somewhere from the next lane. The boy below shifts as if suddenly woken up from a trance and then sighs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay fine. Sorry I freaked you out. I just saw your shadow and got tensed up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He mumbles loud enough for his voice to reach Iwaizumi who freezes midway, his lines obviously stolen. He can only do so much as to nod as he watches the boy awkwardly stare at him for a second before turning around and trudging to the driveway of the house in front. He is running his fingers through his hair, his hand coming to a rest at the back of his neck when he suddenly stops.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The realization hits Iwaizumi the exact same millisecond as the boy whips his head around. He almost loses his balance before he spreads his arms out and places a leg back to steady himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before Iwaizumi can even form a coherent sentence from the splinter of words suddenly erupting in his head, the one below hisses making him flinch involuntarily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are the one who moved in today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right before his eyes, Iwaizumi watches in astonishment as the earlier look of distrust and accusation dissipate and then suddenly there is the brightest gleam in his eyes. He is now standing right below the streetlight and Iwaizumi feels slightly thrown off by the way his face is lighting up now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Annoyingly enough and warily his brain’s first response is “lovely”. He widens at his thought process but he can’t stop himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lovely as in dictionary definition of being exquisitely beautiful.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And Iwaizumi isn’t the type to go by textbook meanings or crisp,short English words but he finds it the closest to describe the boy now staring at him with the widest grin on his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh-”, he fumbles for a better response before settling down to just affirming, his mind coming up blank.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “-Yeah, we just moved in today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi watches as his grin morphs into a small smile before involuntarily returning one of his own. He suddenly feels very tired, the day’s activities catching up on his body and he hopes that his smile isn’t more of a grimace. The wind has picked up again gently lifting some of the fallen ume flowers a few inches above the ground and Iwaizumi almost laughs. Maybe it is the sleep-deprived brain but him, the boy below, the racing white flowers floating and the freckled night sky at the backdrop feels like a midsummer night’s painting. somewhere in his semi-conscious brain, he knows he needs to give a better introduction. But it's almost half-past three in the morning and he doesn't know if his brain has just logged out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh.. It's almost dawn so I'm gonna go and sleep now. Nice meeting you?”, he hears himself asking incredulously as his arms involuntarily reach out to draw the curtains. He facepalms himself in his mind when he realizes what he has asked. Nice meeting? That was anything but nice. Realizing he is only digging his own grave here, he quickly moves about sliding the curtain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stops abruptly as the other one continues, his voice ricocheting off the white walls of houses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Oikawa Tooru.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oikawa Tooru. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It has a nice ring to it, Iwaizumi thinks running the name again in his mind. It suits him, he agrees with no one in particular. It stays at the tip of his tongue, hesitant with an alien touch but he feels he can get used to it. Like this new home. This new town. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Home. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He catches himself using that word again unconsciously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hajime. My name is Iwaizumi Hajime.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He catches a flicker of what seemed like mirth pass through his eyes and then he sees Oikawa mumbling his name. He can’t hear the barely audible whisper but he feels in his chest the way he tilts his head slightly, repeating his name to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He suddenly declares to the empty street and a very tired but visibly flustered Iwaizumi. He continues without a care, turning around on his heels and looking at Iwaizumi diagonally with a smile that seems like a borderline smirk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>" I don't intend to keep you up on your first night so I'll go. You must be tired. We have had quite a first interaction, don't you think so? It was indeed nice, quite unlike the others I meet. ”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blinking like a deer caught in headlights, Iwaizumi mutters a soft </span>
  <em>
    <span>hmm</span>
  </em>
  <span> before slowly drawing the curtains further and turning around, a little too heavy-headed to think clearly now about the dramatic event that had just unfolded. Maybe he will ponder over each snippet of the interaction tomorrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as he steps forward, he hears the pleasant voice loudly cut through the wind and wrap around his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See you tomorrow, Iwachan!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns around slightly to see Oikawa waving from behind his main door and Iwaizumi feels a smile tug at his own lips, clearly flustered and amused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nods and turns around, flinging his flip-flops off and dragging himself to his bed. Crashing down, his body gives in to the comforting lull of sleep. The bright blue of his walls is in striking contrast to the grey ones back at Tokyo and the bed is an inch wider than the previous ones. Yet he finds a small hum of warmth vibrating in his chest and he doesn’t know if it’s the adrenaline of moving to a new place or the lasting impression of a lovely form disappearing into a white house with warm tone tiles. He suspects it's the latter in his heart against the better judgement of his brain. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span> Iwachan? What was that?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi’s mind scrambles as sleep washes over him. And the momentary flicker of light from his phone screen catches the ghost of a child-like smile lingering on his lips.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. guarded eyes and the window across the street</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Iwaizumi doesn’t think it is possible to be this exhausted except he is. He can hardly feel his legs, the intense pricking of needles and pins in his soles making him buckle as he gets up from the crouching position he was in. Pressing a palm against the hard surface of the garden fence, he pushes himself up and grimaces. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had spent the whole morning shifting furniture and assembling them before his mother had dragged him out to fix the garden. The afternoon had gone by in a flash as he had been pruning bushes, shrubs, and hedges and now even the sun had dipped. Iwaizumi watches with tired eyes at the neglected ume tree standing in the right corner of the garden, dried leaves pooling around it. The flowers have not yet bloomed properly but he smiles a little as a brief image passes in his mind of the flowers in full bloom, merging into the myriads of white in the neighbourhood. But as suddenly as it came, his smile slips from his face as his eyes fall on the tangled thickets of thorns, dugged up flower beds, caterpillar eaten leaves. Sighing, he looks down at the ankle-length disheveled grass poking through his cotton pants. The crushing weight of the amount of work left suddenly dawns on him as he leans back, resting his weight on the wooden face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lights are starting to come on from the houses and he feels a sudden orange glow fall on his face as his mother switches on the porch light from inside. The temperature has dipped now, the cool soft breeze drying off the sweat trickling down his face. He exhales slowly as his body finally relaxes, his shoulders slumping. Above him, the black tranquility of the sky married to the sprinkled poetry of stars spreads out wide, the welcomed silence and peace allowing his mind to wander off for the first time today. Somewhere the cicadas pick up their humming as he finds himself slowly turning around to gaze at the house opposite to his. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Come to think of it, he hasn’t seen the brunette at all today despite the fact that for the better half of the day he had been outside toiling in the garden. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shifts his gaze towards the window above, blackout shades still drawn as the streetlamp flickers and turns on. The light hitting the grey asphalt brings forth the previous night in snippets. At the back of his mind, he hears a soft </span>
  <em>
    <span>Iwachan </span>
  </em>
  <span>disappearing like wisps of smoke into the night. He knows he can’t come up with that name even in his dream.It sounds like one of those nicknames meant exclusively as a keepsake and god knows Iwaizumi hasn’t had someone utter that nickname for him. He knows with startling clarity that others cannot mimic it and Iwaizumi finds himself thinking that maybe </span>
  <em>
    <span>Iwachan</span>
  </em>
  <span> sounds right only in Oikawa Tooru’s voice. One gesture that will be probably only his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Oikawa Tooru with his windblown hair and saccharine crescent smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Except Iwaizumi is starting to question his existence. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Was I too tired last night?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lost in his internal monologue, he tilts his head upwards slightly and then stifles suddenly. There is a shadow pressed up behind the window and it shifts suddenly the moment Iwaizumi tilts his head.  Blinking furiously, he squints again and almost scoffs at himself when he sees nothing. Maybe seven hours of working in the sun were finally starting to take a toll on him.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa laughs a little watching Iwaizumi tilt his head up and freeze. There is a confused look clouding his features and he looks so troubled that Oikawa almost lifts the shade.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nope.Too early to reveal. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He lets his hands fall and shifts a little at the back so that his shadow doesn’t fall. He notes with careful, autumn tone eyes that Iwaizumi looks worn out for good. Donning grey cotton pants, frayed a little in the end and hiked up, Iwaizumi leans on the fence and closes his eyes, his chin lifted. A single line of light from the streetlamp falls diagonally across his face and Oikawa whispers </span>
  <em>
    <span>serene. </span>
  </em>
</p><p><span> Inching slightly closer towards the window, he skims his eyes across Iwaizumi’s form before coming to rest on his face. Rugged features with a prominently angled jawline and sharp nose. Oikawa shrugs at his slim muscular build and wonders how he wasn’t intimidated last night when Iwaizumi glared down at him from the window. His hair is midnight black and even as </span><em><span>strong </span></em><span>is the first word that pops into his head, Oikawa thinks of the word gentle.</span> <span>In his barely suppressed smile last night. In his failed attempt at apologizing first which Oikawa had deftly noticed. </span><em><span>Gentle in the sense of waves lapping shores yet enough to raise a tempest. </span></em><span>The word seems to rest softly on his calm tranquil face softening the hard lines of muscle.</span> <span>Oikawa catches himself before a full-blown smile erupts on his face. </span></p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is interesting.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chuckling to himself, he gets up and turns around walking to his bedside table to pick up his phone. From downstairs he can hear the whistling of the pressure cooker as his mother busies herself in the kitchen. Ruffling his tousled brown hair with his hands, Oikawa opens his door and calls out to his mother while hopping down the stairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oka-san, I’m going out!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is the sound of a plate being kept on the counter and then his mother’s voice rings out, followed by her face peeping as her son puts on his shoes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you carried your phone?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he ties his laces, she sighs and then approaches him wiping her hands on her apron before proceeding to brush off some minuscule invisible dust from his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tooru, you better not go around scaring people again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fixing his shirt Oikawa turns towards her, easily towering over her petite frame. He gives her a Cheshire grin before placing his hand on his chest in a dramatic solemn promise earning a flick on his forehead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He catches the retreating figure of Iwaizumi as he trudged back to his door dragging a shovel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Iwachan!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A bird flies away immediately as his voice rings out in the quiet neighbourhood. Iwaizumi stops suddenly and turns around,one eyebrow raised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you do exist?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sounds relieved and maybe he catches on to his own voice so he immediately puts on a deadpan expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laughing away, Oikawa crosses the street in three strides before opening Iwaizumi’s house gate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should I be happy that you wondered about me or should I be hurt by your question,Iwachan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s with that nickname?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi counters completely ignoring Oikawa’s earlier question as the brunette enters the garden sidestepping the dug up areas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hearing him,Oikawa stops short and feigns an almost too ridiculous confused look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t like it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t exactly complaining.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I actually like it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But he doesn’ say and doesn’t exactly get a chance to anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does Hajime kun sound better to you? Or Hajime san? Maybe I should be more formal and settle for Iwaizumi-kun?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Iwaizumi-kun?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi looks at him questioningly, mentally calculating if it is possible for him to be younger to this bundle of energy in front.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa catches his gaze and laughs before stepping forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I will stick to Iwachan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It isn’t a question and is more of a statement. He says it with such confidence, gleaming eyes and all saccharine smile that Iwaizumi finds himself nodding along. Somehow it seems to fall perfectly in the space between them. He watches the enigma in front of him in growing amusement, his earlier tiredness having ebbed away long ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Up close, he looks even more beautiful and Iwaizumi finds himself cautiously noting his eyes. They seem to be filled with all hues like changing seasons, a little of everything but nonetheless beautiful.Brown mahogany orbs scintillating with a mischievous gleam and they seem to reflect the corner of his mouth,which were fighting a smile. Iwaizumi realizes with a jolt that they had fallen silent and now Oikawa is staring back at him with a barely suppressed smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Noticing his flushed cheeks Oikawa finally laughs but the light from the porch doesn’t fail to catch his own flushed cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you have pretty eyes too, Iwachan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scratching his neck, Iwaizumi scrambles in his mind thinking of anything to speak. Anything to cover his earlier slip-up.</span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What was I thinking? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t see you the whole day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He almost bites his lips down as soon as the words leave his mouth. He sounds too eager or too stalkerish. None of which is good if he wants to make friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa however doesn’t seem to think that way and answers back almost immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was sleeping. Just got up two hours ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi stares at him for a brief moment like he has grown two heads. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you? Nocturnal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If his math is right, Oikawa has slept till 6 pm  considering how it is 8 pm now. Try as he does, Iwaizumi can’t wrap his head around it.But Oikawa looks sincere, almost too sincere that he stops himself from fussing over the body clock of someone he has met only twice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is a flicker in his brown eyes and it disappears but Iwaizumi feels there is more to it. Yet he doesn’t feel it to be his place to pry so he lets go of it. Maybe one day when they are much more than just two strangers, he will ask again. Maybe then. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa whistles softly, breaking the silence that has fallen for a brief moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Want to go for a walk?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi ponders over it for a second before turning around and walking towards his house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me change out of these clothes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns slightly to catch Oikawa nodding, a smile resting on his face as he follows him and settles on the steps leading to his house. Iwaizumi doesn’t bother asking him to come inside and instead moves hurriedly.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Soft washed out green. Like his favourite old Christmas sweater. Like ocean green with flecks of grey.  Like summertime water trough or dew grass at dawn. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa thinks as he remembers Iwaizumi’s eyes while fiddling with the white camellia drooping next to the railing of the steps. He picks a fallen flower and shakes off the dust, smiling as it assumes some resemblance to its earlier brightness. The flower seems to almost come alive in the warmth of his hand and Oikawa feels a sense of familiarity. He immediately adds another line to his ever-increasing description of Iwaizumi’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His eyes are warm.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa doesn’t remember the last time he had someone accompanying him during his night shenanigans. Kicking a random pebble on the sidewalk, he shoves both his hands into his pocket and watches Iwaizumi close the gate to his house. Somehow he had managed to wash his hair and now they are damp, his usual spiky hair falling softly in front of his forehead, not quite reaching his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we going somewhere specific or just wandering?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi looks at him from the corner of his eyes as Oikawa wordlessly starts walking down the street. It’s only half-past eight yet the street wears a deserted look. Iwaizumi bends as a branch of ume tree hangs lower than most, his hand covering his hair from the falling white flowers. Their footsteps make a dull rhythm on the cobbled pavements merging with the muffled conversational sounds from behind closed doors and slightly ajar windows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you not tired,Iwachan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is such a soft but glaringly obvious tone of concern in the way Oikawa speaks his nickname that Iwaizumi almost stops walking before masking it rather ungracefully. He falls silent even as Oikawa’s eyes focus on him, watching the way in which both the watery white-silver glow moonlight spills on his face and chest even as his white shirt catches the orange glow of the lamp they cross. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Smiling to himself, he answers for Iwaizumi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since you were working the whole day, let’s go get some ice cream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is a faint </span>
  <em>
    <span>hmm </span>
  </em>
  <span>from Iwaizumi and Oikawa misses the lines of a soft smile that appear at the corner of Iwaizumi’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is a brief comfortable silence that falls between them before Iwaizumi speaks again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is so different from Tokyo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh? Iwachan is from Tokyo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nodding, Iwaizumi turns his head to a very curious brunette staring at him with his head slightly tilted. He almost laughs at the way those brown eyes are brimming with endless questions. There is such unadulterated innocence in them that he feels giddy and almost childlike walking next to him. It's funnily liberating, he realizes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa feels like a summer breeze, he thinks. There is a larger than life presence he brings, overpowering Iwaizumi’s thoughts and yet he doesn’t find in him to hate the refreshing chill of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi ignores the barrage of questions unasked and replies crisply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I moved from there. My actual home is in Ikebukuro.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I have so many questions. But first-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa chuckles before grabbing Iwaizumi’s hand and suddenly turning a corner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-Let’s grab our icecreams.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi lets himself be pulled along albeit the surprise plainly obvious at Oikawa’s fingers firmly wrapped around his wrist. Coming to an abrupt stop, he looks up and notes the white walls of the small parlour and smiles at the stubbornness with which this town sticks to the colour theme. Huddled next to a 7/11 mart, it sits there in its quiet desolation in the middle of the night yet there is something about the small ice cream parlour which finds Iwaizumi hurrying his footsteps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Small golden fairy lights hang in columns across the wide glass windowpane and as he slides open the door, a bell chimes somewhere behind the counter. Oikawa is humming next to him, clicking his finger according to the rhythm of the slow music drifting out from a small speaker attached aboved.   </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Let's go get lost on a long back road</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Where the river turns to streams and the time moves slow</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa winks at him before dragging him by his shirt towards the counter</span>
  <span>, singing the song a little loudly now. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It's not anything you say, anywhere we go</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It's just being alone with you now</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The older woman at the counter smiles at him fondly and then hands him a menu without any question asked. She seems almost too familiar with the rising singing sensation next to Iwaizumi that he doesn’t need to ask if this place was one of his regular hangout spots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waits for the instrumental bit of the song to start, unwilling to disturb the performance. Oikawa has settled in one corner tapping the chair next to him with his hand gesturing Iwaizumi to sit. His eyes follow the spiky-haired boy movement even as his mouth moves in sync with Crayon City’s crooning. When the acoustic guitar picks up, Iwaizumi slides him the menu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh Iwachan, I have my favourite one already.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waves his hand towards the counter earning a knowing nod in return before the older woman disappears into a room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you choose?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’ll just settle for the mango mochi one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa laughs softly propping his chin on his palm, the gleam in his eyes reflecting the hanging lightbulb above them. His laugh is a pleasant sound and they bounce off the wall next to them before settling in Iwaizumi’s chest unconsciously.</span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Iwachan, you sure are something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It turns out Oikawa’s ice cream is as astonishing as the rest of him is. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mint chip stracciatella</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He eats it with such relish that Iwaizumi finds himself watching him with a growing spark of wonder in his eyes. His dynamic with the rest of the world seems so less ordinary as if he shares a secret with everyone, animate or inanimate. He finds himself wondering if they will also have a secret between them? One with Oikawa Tooru sounds quite interesting, one bit of his sparkle that maybe only Iwaizumi can claim.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They talk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> For hours and hours under dim yellow lights till the old woman drives them out at 2 am. Oikawa laughs at little bits and pieces of Iwaizumi’s Tokyo life, interjecting every now and then with his wide-eyed queries, smacking the table every time he gets a satisfying answer. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Did you get detention ever? Maybe. </span>
  </em>
  <span>A slight disapproving look mixed with mirth, so confusing yet completely devoid of judgement. Iwaizumi doesn’t understand how he does it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Iwachan, have you been to a karaoke? Yes but I don’t sing. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He shakes his head and drums his finger on the table. The playlist has now switched. And Iwaizumi finds himself mumbling lyrics as Taichi Mukai sings softly.</span>
  <em>
    <span>Have you been to Tokyo Tower? Many times.</span>
  </em>
  <span> There is a hint of faraway look and longing in his swirling cinnamon eyes. Then he smiles and moves on to another question, throwing them out randomly. The ice cream cups pile up on the table but Oikawa seems like he can go on for hours with his questions. And strangely Iwaizumi doesn’t complain. Their banter flows naturally, back and forth. Sometimes he finds himself laughing loudly and he wonders at the back of his mind if his walls can be broken down so easily. Oikawa is not all fireworks and endless loud banter and he transitions easily to quiet moments when he listens to Iwaizumi speak. A dreamy haze in his eyes, he props his chin up and listens, a soft smile playing on his lips. Always there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why did you move here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He is scooping up the last bite from his 4th ice cream cup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I leave for the States next year for college.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pauses before adding in a slightly lower voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In Tokyo, days were just us racing round and we didn’t know where one ended and one started. So I think my parents wanted a slower pace of life before I leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa looks up with a strange gleam in his eyes and for a moment Iwaizumi hesitates in his mind. Iwaizumi doesn't like to think of leaving. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are leaving next year?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He wants to say it but something between the chambers of his heart constricts.So he settles for a nod, busying himself with the folded tissue paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks up when he hears a chuckle escape Oikawa’s mouth. There is a look on his face. Iwaizumi can’t put a word to it but it comes close to hopeful. Add a sprinkle of heaven spun autumnal gaze and an eyes-reaching honest smile to it and he wishes he can hold on to that look on Oikawa’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I’m going to show you everything about Miyagi before you leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It isn’t exactly a request but more like Oikawa holding out his hands fully expecting Iwaizumi to hold on to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Iwaizumi does hold on to it. With an inquisitive spark that threatens to blow up any second and a smile deeply embedded in his chest, he rather grabs the request. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe in return, I’ll take you to Tokyo once?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is the bell chiming as a stranger enters and a breeze enters with him, ruffling Oikawa’s hair. He stares at Iwaizumi with such unabated fondness forcing him to cough and break his gaze. But not before he catches the way his eyes smile, one that Iwaizumi will remember for a long time.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would love that, Iwachan”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His answer comes later when they exit the ice cream parlour. On their way back,Oikawa sets the condition for his tour for Iwaizumi. First he will show him around the neighbourhood. And oh, they will meet after sundown. He adds it nonchalantly with no explanation and then moves on to list the places he wants to show around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he is curious, Iwaizumi doesn’t question him at all.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i yap way too much about iwaoi and haikyuu on twitter. come find me there.<br/>And if you like the story, please leave your thoughts or kudos it makes my day ❤️</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. secrets of the town and secrets of you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Iwaizumi doesn’t get to see a single famous landmark of Tome in the entirety of three weeks he is guided by Oikawa. But under the starlight of midsummer nights and incessant showers of windblown ume petals, Oikawa shows him much more than that. He sees the town as it is, the people who inhabit the houses down the blocks of his street, the street Oikawa raced on when he was a child, the small wayside cafe hidden between two houses, tucked in so safely. They run across neighbourhoods during pitch-black nights save for the tremendous sky above,their shadows marking memories for them. Laying on uncut grass in some unnamed park, Iwaizumi thinks that the stars seem far closer to the truth of who they are. He watches the boy next to him, smiling with his eyes close munching on chocolates they had picked up. And he can’t help but think if being nocturnal makes people feel closer to the cosmos, sensing the fragility of the universe. That explains Oikawa Tooru to him,who seems to hold up the universe in his own light. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He learns that Oikawa was homeschooled since he was a child. And that he plays the piano. He learns of the scar he got when he tried to sneak out the first time, falling from their low balcony onto the bush below. Oikawa shows him the measly graffiti painting he made on the wall of a dilapidated house in an alley and Iwaizumi laughs for a long time. He later tells Oikawa that he gets an A for effort and that earns him a long drawn </span>
  <em>
    <span>Iwachan </span>
  </em>
  <span>with eyes that Iwaizumi wishes he knew better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> The list piles up in his mind. At first, he counts them in his head, learning slowly and before he knows, Iwaizumi finds himself weaving his knowledge of the town with bits of Oikawa’s life. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ten. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He knows this mart has Oikawa’s favourite bread. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eleven. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He knows that this street has the only restaurant which sells Takoyaki that has the exact filling Oikawa likes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Twelve. </span>
  </em>
  <span>This is the first place he got into an accident when he was a kid. At some point, the counting stops and he knows the town through Oikawa’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa learns that Iwaizumi can actually sing but will never do so and that he was quite a reserved rebel back in Tokyo. He learns that Iwaizumi likes to assemble broken parts of automobiles and that he worked in a workshop during his summers back home. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How ironic of him to like fixing things.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He smiles at the information strangely unsurprised. He learns of a pink-haired boy Hanamaki who dragged Iwaizumi everywhere. He watches the way he talks of Hanamaki, all forced annoyance and a barely hidden nostalgia in his smile. And Oikawa finds himself thinking if he can pull off pink hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He forces Iwaizumi to hum along with him, sometimes stopping in the middle to watch the shorter spiky boy as he walks around. Oikawa admits to himself that the town suddenly seems new to him. There are places where he catches new details when Iwaizumi is with him. Like how the light from the dingy signboard of the shop next to the narrow alley doesn’t seem so useless anymore. The dull white light catches the side profile of Iwaizumi whenever they cross the shop and Oikawa always finds himself turning his head to enjoy the view. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Where were you all these while?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t say it out loud as Iwaizumi gestures to him to be quiet while crossing a neighbourhood, the distant sounds of televisions and conversations drifting out of windows and down the street. He learns a new word from the Tokyo boy. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sonder. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There is a story with everyone.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi looks at him while explaining the meaning, his olive-green eyes catching the moonbeam shine and Oikawa knows there is a question in them. He is asking for his story but in the gentleness that he knows only Iwaizumi possesses.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Take your time. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He doesn’t say but Oikawa knows because eyes can’t lie and Iwaizumi carries his heart in them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>One day,Iwachan.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
                                 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oikawa?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi calls out, his fingers resting on the black piano seat cushion as he leans down to examine the giant instrument. A very distracted feeble <em>hmm</em> comes back from the next aisle. Iwaizumi straightens up and walks slowly towards the other side of the music store. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first thing he sees is the way the soft glow from the recessed lights above catch the highlights on a mop of brown hair, the strands softly moving as the other boy moves around. Rows and rows of guitars stretch till the back wall of the shop, the altering hues of the instruments ranging from mahogany to crimson merging with the wooden flooring of the shop. Oikawa is leaning on a pillar in the middle, his hands flipping through what seems like a book of music notes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sensing movement next to him he looks up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa watches the way in which Iwaizumi approaches him, his head turning towards the side as his fingers pass through the guitar strings. He looks like a child in an amusement park, the way his mouth is slightly open. A smile breaks out on his face as he walks apologetically towards Iwaizumi, hands clasped behind his back, closing the distance till he now stands merely two inches away from him. He tilts his body a little to come in his line of sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry Iwachan. I was searching for something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nodding as if to say he understands, Iwaizumi smiles back remembering his earlier question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nothing. I just wanted to ask something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ask what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi turns back only to find that he has now moved swiftly towards where the two grand pianos are stationed, whistling as he runs his palm over the sleek top of the black one. His eyes hold the wistful look under the sole light in that corner.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You will look good on a stage, under the spotlight.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t say this out loud and instead proceeds to ask his question, moving towards him again. They are the only customers in the shop considering it is almost nine at night. The owner of the shop, an old yet fairly energetic uncle, is sitting in his corner behind the reception counter picking through guitar plectrums. Next to him ,his assistant dusts the shelves. There is a soft Nat cole piece playing in the background. Iwaizumi briefly recognizes the piece as Autumn leaves. He had taken up jazz out of boredom back in school and had ended up liking some pieces a lot. This was one of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But I miss you most of all my darling</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When autumn leaves start to fall.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiles softly as the melancholic song fills the shop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was the song you were humming?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa looks up from examining the piano keys. A random note floating out suddenly as his fingers accidentally press one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When we first met.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When you scared the living lights out of me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He almost says it but Oikawa gets the hint and starts chuckling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, Between the stars-”, he states while smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll play it for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The question comes out suddenly even as he tilts his head looking at Iwaizumi. Oikawa stares at the shorter boy, his heartbeat suddenly pounding. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Am I being nervous?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He almost takes it back, afraid of coming off too strong when the other one moves, dragging a chair and planting himself next to the piano.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa squawks slightly, a giggle escaping his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. I don’t mind.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There is the rustling of sheets as Oikawa places the book he is holding on the side. He sits down gracefully, cracking his fingers as he does. Iwaizumi watches in muted silence, afraid of disturbing the stillness in his heart at the moment. There is something so alluring and so damn intriguing about the fluidity in Oikawa’s movement. His finger softly resting on the keys, the breath escaping his lips, his demure eyes underneath the light.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lovely.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you ready, Iwachan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa turns to look at him. And there is a glint in his eyes, so alien yet so comforting. Almost as if to ask if Iwaizumi will step across the threshold of his carefully guarded secrets. At the back of his mind, Oikawa beams. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Iwaizumi feels safe, right here, right now</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Like he did ever since Oikawa let his name roll off his tongue. In moments when he is unguarded, Oikawa catches the fleeting expanse of tenderness in him. Like the way he is looking at Oikawa right now. Interwoven shades of green in his eyes, alive and wide-eyed with his subtle smile. He nods at Oikawa, his left hand gesturing to him to start.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inhaling a deep breath, Oikawa’s long fingers come down on the keys, moving with unmatched finesse. The first melody fills the air and Iwaizumi props his head on his hand, watching the boy next to him.  From the corner of his eyes, he can see the other two souls in the room look up, pausing their work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa turns, catching Iwaizumi’s gaze as he opens his mouth to sing.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I was looking down</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When you, the satellite broke through</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His fingers continue moving gracefully even as he doesn’t let the other boy divert his gaze even for a second. As if to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Listen to me. Don’t look away.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is for you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice is smooth and clear and quiet yet it sounds powerful, holding Iwaizumi rooted in his place. He feels like he is flowing yet rooted. Like waves filling holes in the sand, the sound of his voice races around the room, winding around the shelves, the edges and corners. Filling up spaces and more spaces until it’s him, his voice and his overwhelming presence.The lyrics, he notices, sound sad but there is something in his voice that Iwaizumi can’t help when the creases of a soft smile starts forming around his eyes. Somewhat beautifully tragic, he thinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So when the gravity let go</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And all the forces loosened grip</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I couldn't help, but feel alone</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The words are of the shades of dark blue, one that washes over with its coldness but he doesn’t miss the way Oikawa adds hope like sprinkling stardust. His voice, a warm shade of orange glow, reaching out to wrap around Iwaizumi and hold him close. And at that moment,Iwaizumi feels infinite. It’s a glorious feeling and he wishes Oikawa would continue singing. So he reaches out to the depth of his brown eyes and whispers. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m listening.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span> Oikawa smiles as if he understands, continuing the song.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>As long as you allow me to. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He adds as a later thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi closes his eyes, allowing the rhythmic percussion of Oikawa’s voice to vibrate in his chest. His cheeks catch the light as he tilts his head slightly, leaning in closer. There is a semblance of a smile on his lips as he allows himself to bask in his voice. And before he knows it, his mind is wandering. Kissing colours into the whites of the town, he runs in his head with a strange exhilarating feeling. And Oikawa is there, racing ahead of him in vivid clarity and turning around to pull him by his hand. His laughter swirls around them, like a birdsong as if to wake up the sleepy town. Thoughts and feet wander, lungs fill and time rolls by endlessly. The road they are running on stretches on forever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> And then there’s ripple and a sharp key, shattering the laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi suddenly opens his eyes and sits up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa’s gaze is focused on the keys, his lips pursing in a painful grimace. Iwaizumi finds himself trailing his eyes down his arms to where Oikawa’s long fingers are, his heart so achingly still in the chambers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once and then again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is the sound of the keys being half-pressed continuously and there is the vibration of all false notes and pitches. It’s as if the </span>
  <em>
    <span>forte, mezzo </span>
  </em>
  <span>and the </span>
  <em>
    <span>staccato </span>
  </em>
  <span>are all tangled in one chaotic tune. And there are his long, dainty fingers of his left hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking uncontrollably on top of the keys. They jump rhythmically as if in a spasm while his hand stays unmoving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi feels his brain shutter for a moment as his eyes widen, taking in the scene. But even as his thoughts take time to catch up, his hands are already moving. Reaching across the space between them and softly hovering for a second. They hesitate briefly before firmly lifting Oikawa’s. The shaking intensifies as he lifts it but then his warm fingers firmly wrap around the curves between the brunette’s cold fingers. He clasps it strongly, enough to subdue the shaking but gently, enough to let the heat from his seep into the cold one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He raises his eyes to see Oikawa staring at their intertwined fingers. His gaze is again one Iwaizumi can not fathom so he watches in silence, waiting like he has been ever since he met him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a moment, Oikawa feels all the blood rush to his hand. There is a dizzying motion in his mind as he wills his hand to stop shaking. The sound of the wrong notes crashes into his eardrums making him whimper inside. He purses his lips forcing his mind to relay to his fingers to stay still. He can vaguely sense Iwaizumi’s eyes watching him now, his body suddenly going stiff. There is so much of numbness and there is so much pain. All in once. Oikawa bites down on his tongue as the realization comes in waves. Like wild horses, rearing up before crashing against his crumbling senses. He sighs internally as he finds himself letting the motion of his finger take over.He knew this was coming. He just didn’t know when but now that it is here, there is no point in fighting it. Oikawa is not going to win this one and he had accepted it long ago, taking things as they come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> That's when he feels the heat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lighthouse. Calling him back, searching for him in the storm.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They hover above his shaking hand at first and Oikawa stiffens, his mind racing and begging all at once. Then they come down slowly and gradually, wrapping his freezing hand in warmth. He watches Iwaizumi hold his hand in a warm, easy clasp and almost breaks inside. There is the feeling of letting go and sadness draining from his body. It slowly recedes from his brain and he feels like the camelia from that one summer night. His eyes are watching and Oikawa has never felt so alive before. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He is warm.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Oikawa feels a smile bloom in his chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice comes out, softer than all other times. There is a darkened shadow in his olive green-grey eyes and there is the storm of fear etched on his face even if he is trying to suppress it unsuccessfully. A heavy pause hangs in the air and for all the worries in the world, Oikawa finds himself having only one. To assure him, to soothe him. To bring back the light in his eyes. There are worry lines bunched upon his forehead and Oikawa wants nothing but to smoothen them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except he can’t lift his one hand and the other one is clutching tightly onto Iwaizumi’s shirt. He must have done it unconsciously but he doesn’t let go of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leaning forward, he rests his forehead on Iwaizumi’s shoulder and feels the other one free one of his hands from the clasp and wraps his arm around Oikawa. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Iwachan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He calls out, almost in a whisper, hoping only for him to hear his voice. There are so many things Oikawa suddenly wants to exist only in the space between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t wait for an answer knowing Iwaizumi is listening. He had been since the start. To all his endless chatter and laughter, as if he didn’t want to miss out a single frequency or syllable. And it makes Oikawa feel like he can soar higher and higher and touch the sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sick.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>if you are still here, I promise it gets better. Leave me your thoughts 💕</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. anchors and unsaid promises</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The other boy doesn’t say a word but Oikawa feels his heartbeat quicken against his and the grip on his hand becomes a little tighter. He then hears a slow, long exhale as Iwaizumi rests his forehead too on his shoulder, his arms pulling Oikawa closer. He rests it lightly, hardly with any weight but it is there. It feels so tender that Oikawa can’t help when his lips quiver slightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turns his head slightly to the right to watch his face from an angle. His lips are dangerously close so he ends up shifting his head back a little, unsure of the way his nerves suddenly become erratic at the proximity. Before his mind can divert any further, he continues.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You never asked me why I don’t meet you during the daytime.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He states, as a matter of fact, closing his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi lifts his head up and looks at him, his eyes suddenly trained with unmatched intensity on Oikawa’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Iwachan, I have XP.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It means I can’t be exposed to sunlight at all. The UV rays set off a chain reaction for a number of diseases and side effects. Diseases which-”, he laughs bitterly, “-aren’t so great to suffer from.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> He is sitting up now, looking at the changing range of emotions on Iwaizumi’s face. Oikawa knows he has been selfish in keeping this information to himself. He had convinced himself by relishing in the way Iwaizumi saw him as a person more than a disease and that had been enough to keep him quiet for the past one and a half months. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There are no ways and no guidelines on how we can tell people about a life-threatening incurable disease and Oikawa knows this isn’t one of the greatest alternatives. But sitting there, he wants him to know. He wants Iwaizumi to understand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But mostly, he doesn’t want him to run away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Say something. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He waits with bated breath, his shaking hand having dulled a little. Outside the leaves hang limp and a street light flickers, the light slowly dying out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it curable?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It comes as a soft whisper but it crashes louder than anything on Oikawa’s chest and he almost laughs because it’s an old friend. There is him in his memory, barely ten years old, being dragged by his parents as he clings on to the white coat of the doctor.</span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Will I be cured?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span> There is him yelling, his hoarse voice echoing down the hallways with white lights and that’s all there is. The yelling, the silent shake of a head, the darkness, and then the realization. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Time is ebbing away from his shore and Oikawa knows that even without a report, 14 size font and a boldly printed diagnosis.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So when he hears the question again, he simply shakes his head wordlessly. And as a soft </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span> escapes Iwaizumi’s mouth, Oikawa finds himself wishing he could be a lunar pull for once. To call back the receding tide of time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Flow a little longer. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He whispers in his head.</span>
  <em>
    <span> A little more, a little longer.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi shifts a little, his knees pressed up against Oikawa’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“W-were you exposed to the sun recently?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There are his eyes, pleading and searching. And there is his grip holding on to Oikawa’s hands, the lines on his palms pressing deeper. He doesn’t have to hear the words to know what’s written in his eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Say no. Tell me you were not.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They are unspoken yet so loud, hanging in the still air between them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oikawa feels the discoloured pigmented skin on his shoulder blade press deeper into his heart. He feels it mocking. The spider-like vessels under his skin spread as he sits there and it feels ironic. The way it traps his soul and the words in his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he raises his right hand and presses it on his firm chest, feeling the other boy’s heartbeat race through his veins and move in sync with his. It’s an apology and he hopes Iwaizumi understands.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There is no answer this time and he waits for the shift in their equation to finally hit in full force. There are no questions either.</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oikawa.”</span>
</p>
<p><span>He looks up slowly, dreading what’s going to come next.</span> <span>He runs the conversation in his head, million scenarios building up and getting cancelled as fast as they come. What if he says he needs time to process? Will he get angry for keeping this information away from him? What if he leaves? It explodes in his head and he knows he owes a better explanation. There are questions and questions and answers he can’t give. Because in the end, it comes down to three things.</span></p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He is running out of time. He was selfish. And he is sorry.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So he waits in muted silence. This the grey part of the spectrum he hates, the waiting. The middle of nowhere.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi pulls his chair a little closer, the legs of it scraping the floor slightly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, what’s the full form of XP?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wh-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oikawa blinks. And then blinks again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Then he is shaking in laughter, his whole body vibrating as he feels the tightness in his chest dissipate. He feels the laughter in his lungs, taking his breath away. It leaves him breathless and strangely he feels even more alive. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Iwaizumi looks at him in a way that is so uniquely him, eyes bright with concern but a crushing fondness which Oikawa has never experienced before he joins in with a chuckle and a flustered face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Scratching his neck, he speaks as a matter of fact.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want to be careful with you. And the disease sounds so complicated to someone like me. You know I didn't have science in high school hence this lack of comprehension. So tell me. I’ll read up tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gives a small smile, his other hand coming to rest on the pale hand clutching his shirt. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time, Oikawa feels like he has won a small victory. He claims a moment from the shadow of his disease.</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Thirteen. The nights in Tome are more beautiful than the daytime anyway.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span> He adds it to his list of Oikawa Tooru and quaint little Tome.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s when I met you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>--------------------------------------------------</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi sits on the window sill motionlessly as the light from his laptop illuminates his face. His fingers hover over the keypads, the blank search engine staring back at him and imploring him to type in. For a brief second, he considers closing it and going off to sleep. If he doesn’t know, he will not be reminded of it. Maybe he can go on living like he always had, running, laughing and chasing midnight starlights. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But his face pops into his head. Brown pleading eyes, the hand clutching his shirt, the quivering lips, the unsaid apology. And he gets unreasonably angry because Oikawa doesn’t have to apologize. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wanted to tell him then that he is not running away or backing off. But somehow the words didn’t push past his throat and all he could do was hold him. He was scared and the words didn’t make sense to him. All he knew was Oikawa was sick. Like incurably sick in the way that made his heart feel brittle and break into pieces. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So his fingers type in, moving excruciatingly slowly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Xeroderma Pigmentosum</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He clicks open the first tab, letting his eyes fall on the bold words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>rare, autosomal recessive disorder of DNA repair</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>…exposure to sunlight can lead to skin colouring or chances of developing skin cancer, no treatment, rare cases, lack of study.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi takes a sharp intake of breath, leaning back as he closes his eyes. The words float in the darkness and settle on his chest, pressing down heavier than anything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He feels the chill of the night close in on him as he remembers Oikawa’s smiling face, the laughter lines around his eyes. The way he glides around the town, picking up conversations with everyone. His soft </span>
  <em>
    <span>Iwachan</span>
  </em>
  <span> when he is afraid of disturbing the tranquility of a neighbourhood or the way he hops down the stairs of his house every night when he sees Iwaizumi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Then the happy memories ripple like someone dropped a rock and the reel shifts into something he wishes he can forget. He remembers the look of utter helplessness as Oikawa tried to stop his fingers from spasming, the way they felt stiff in his hands barely able to move on its own or wrap around Iwaizumi’s hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He types in another keyword.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Progressive neurological abnormalities.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The page loads too fast for his liking, drawing up results that make him wish he couldn’t read.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>high-frequency sensorineural hearing loss, progressive cognitive impairment, spasticity, ataxia, brain atrophy...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He immediately searches for the meaning of atrophy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Loss of brain cells(neurons) destroying the connections that help the brains communicate.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Loss of brain cells(neurons) destroying the connections</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Loss of brain cells(neurons)...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi sits there, suddenly afraid of reading more. He knows it doesn’t get better if he does so he sits there in silence, his chest constricting in the painful way like a sinking feeling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s written there in bold, glaringly standing out amongst the thousands of incomprehensible scientific terms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Those with neurodegeneration show an early median age at death.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The pain sears through his brain, burning more than what he imagines a branding iron would. It’s a silent scream that doesn’t rip through pursed lips as he feels his body curl into something fetal. Bringing his knee up slightly to his chest, he fixes his eyes on the words as they embed themselves at the back of his head. It takes all he has to hold on the window frame as he closes the tab and allows the information to crash down on him in full force.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It comes in increasing waves, with no small lull to give him the false sense of hope. Each peak takes a heartbeat away from him, sending him down a spiral. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not a single teardrop falls. However, if someone were to look into his eyes, they would say that they are like the marbles of the raging ocean, like worn-out sea pebbles, now cracked and breaking.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He stays like that for a long time before his alarm clock beeps in the dark. The neon digits show 2:00 am. Sighing, he turns his head letting his gaze fixate on the window across the street. The shades are still drawn, the black screen reflecting his image back at him. It’s an incredibly lonely night and he finds himself wishing Oikawa is on the other side, behind the shades. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Were you scared?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He whispers in his head imagining how he must have felt when he got to know his diagnosis. All these while, when Iwaizumi had been cooking up ridiculous scenarios in his head, Oikawa had been hiding behind those screens trying to save his life.  He doesn’t dare to wonder how much Oikawa is holding in beneath his disarming smile. The faraway look he held every time Iwaizumi talked about Tokyo. His endless questions of places he has never been to. The passing unexplainable fleeting look in his eyes. It feels sickening and twisted the way Iwaizumi feels, like a whimper in the depth of his heart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I’ll take you to Tokyo?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi almost laughs in sheer frustration, the hollowness in his laugh disappearing into the empty night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All that Oikawa never said, he hears it in the silence. The way he stole every little second from time and weaved a little bit of him in everything he touched, every place he went and everyone he met. Oikawa was never running.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> In fact, he has been leaving traces of him to linger, fighting the disease that is caging him. He has been claiming small victories before he has to give his heart away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi has thousands of questions running in his mind, a surge of unexplainable emotions swirling unrestrained in his stomach. But none comes close to the itch in his heart now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It comes as light as a breeze rustling a single leaf, like a midnight shower in July, and then it builds up inside of him, bursting into all his extremities.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The unbearable longing to hold him. To tell him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Rest on me now. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oikawa sits in silence, his knees pressed up against his chest, behind the window. He watches Iwaizumi gaze at his window, his frame illuminated by a silvery beam of moonlight filtering through the branches of the tree in his garden. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You finally know.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiles sadly in the darkness of his room, feeling his inside shrivel up. His one hand slightly holds the left one which has become stiff now. It's cold again bereft of the warmth of Iwaizumi's hands. He feels the chill rush down to his bones with the memory. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If anything, Oikawa has never cried because of his disease. Not even when he got to know about his disease the first time. He had accepted it with the silence of a firm resolution to not let the disease win as long as he can. Maybe it was his child self being too stubborn at the sudden way his childhood was ripped away from him. Or it was watching his parents break down in the hallways. Either way, he had decided then to fight this battle alone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he doesn't understand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t understand why his heart hurts more tonight. Or why has he been sitting here watching the boy across the street? He flinches when he feels the first touch of a single teardrop sliding down his cheek and raises his hand quickly to wipe it away. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time in a long while, Oikawa feels an overwhelming wave of loneliness. He remembers the way he rested his forehead on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, the warmth in his hands holding him, the small smile he gave as if to say he is here. It felt incredible back then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Letting go for a while and having someone to hold him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That was before he knew Oikawa was dying. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stifles a sob that threatens to break through the walls of his heart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't give up on me, Iwachan"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He whispers into the darkness, to the still air in his room, to the sleeping neighborhood outside and the boy sitting across the street. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He slowly gets up to go lie down when he suddenly freezes. Iwaizumi has shifted from his position and is now standing looking straight at his window. He feels his piercing look pass through the glass pane, the black shades, the space between them, and settle right where his heart is. And slowly as he watches, Iwaizumi stretches his arms out and moves them. With both the index fingers pointed at his window, they form a wide semi-circle arc eventually joining in the middle. And then he extends his arms out as his right hand, balled up in a fist, faces his window. Oikawa watches with his fixated gaze, the way his left pinky finger intertwines with the right one, with a tenderness unmatched even in sight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes a second for him to understand and when he does, his heart whimpers like a child crawling into the warmth. He thinks this must be what it feels like to be under the sun on wintry days. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Soba ni iru yo</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m here for you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s what he means.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On a breezy summer night, that’s what Iwaizumi unknowingly tells Oikawa, a promise he sends wordlessly across the expanse of 2m between their windows and the hair’s breadth gap between their hearts before they collide.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>well, this disease is so hard to research about .</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. subtle love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Oikawa wakes up to an unfamiliar buzzing next to his ear. It comes with short pauses as he lays there with his right cheek resting on the pillow. Groaning slightly, he moves his right hand and gropes the side of his bed till his fingers come in contact with the sleek, cold edge of his phone. It lights up at the physical contact, the light momentarily blinding his eyes. Blinking away to adjust his pupils, he squints at the screen.</p><p>
  <em> 4 pm. </em>
</p><p>He frowns at this rude interruption of his sleep. </p><p>Suddenly he sits up in his bed, almost knocking his elbow into the edge of his side table. Staring back at him from the notification are three messages from Iwaizumi.</p><p>Trembling slightly, he presses the message notification. Outside the glare of the daylight is obscurely visible through his blackened out windows.</p><p> </p><p><b>I’m just checking if you actually sleep till 6pm. </b> <em> Sent at 3:57 pm </em></p><p><b>Nvm. I think I’m being stupid. </b> <em> Sent at 03:58 pm. </em></p><p><b>If I woke you up, I’m sorry. Please go back to sleep. </b> <em> Sent at 04:00 pm </em></p><p> </p><p>Oikawa laughs softly, his initial sleepiness having receded into the abyss of his mind. Propping up his pillow, he leans back and places his phone on his lap, his left wrist holding it down so that it doesn’t slide off.</p><p>He types back.</p><p>
  <b>Iwachan, will you take the responsibility for waking me up?</b>
</p><p>The reply shoots back immediately earning a chuckle from Oikawa’s lips involuntarily.</p><p>Iwaizumi writes: <b>Shit. </b></p><p>
  <b>                              Does paying for your ice cream tonight count?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>                Oikawa: <b>Nope. You do that every day anyway.</b></p><p>      Iwaizumi: <b> Okay. Then your Takoyaki?</b></p><p>He slaps his own forehead lightly as he conjures up an image of Iwaizumi,all flustered and embarrassed. A car honks somewhere down the road and the loud giggling of neighbourhood kids filter through the cracks in a muffled tone.</p><p>                Oikawa: <b>How about you sing me a song later?</b></p><p>
  <b>                                I’ll consider your apology then.</b>
</p><p>              Iwaizumi: <b>Aren’t you having way too much fun with this?</b></p><p>There is a frowning emoji next to it, that so obnoxiously looks like Iwaizumi whenever he chides Oikawa for all the questionable acts he pulls during the night rounds. He giggles as he types back, a letter by letter.<b>Excuse me, Iwachan. I’m the victim here.</b></p><p>                Iwaizumi:<b>.... Fine</b></p><p>Oikawa stares at the conversation in front him, the feeling of warmth from last night returning. It wraps around him letting his heart rest. </p><p>A new message pops up.</p><p>                 Iwaizumi: <b> But if your silhouette is riveted in silence   </b></p><p>Oikawa furrows his eyebrows, staring at the words as his mind scrambles in all directions to make sense of it.</p><p>      Oikawa: <b> Uhh...Iwachan?  </b></p><p>If Iwaizumi senses his confusion, he apparently doesn’t care because he shoots back another line that makes Oikawa huff indignantly.</p><p>                   Iwaizumi:<b>Like a wallflower in a dark lit room</b></p><p>  Oikawa: <b>What’s with all these cryptic lines? I’m feeling a little dumb.</b></p><p>He adds a facepalm gif for extra emphasis, biting down on his lips as he tries to make sense of the words. There is a soft tune drifting somewhere outside, the vibration of soft drums floating.</p><p>                    Iwaizumi:<b> Look outside.</b></p><p>Oikawa pauses.</p><p>He lets the word sink in, reading the message twice just to be sure. He doesn’t know if this is also a part of his grand cryptic performance or an actual message. The soft tune from before is getting louder, almost like it's right below his house. </p><p>Throwing aside his blanket, Oikawa hauls himself off the bed with his good hand.</p><p>He tiptoes to the window, his heartbeat suddenly erratic and almost beating out of his rib cage.</p><p>Inching slowly, he presses a palm on his windowpane and peers outside as his eyes widen.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a second, a tiny immeasurable moment. When time and space collide into a single fine speck. It’s how he feels as if his universe begins and ends at that point. And of that, Oikawa is completely sure.</p><p>That exact point in his garden. </p><p>Where Iwaizumi stands, looking up at his window and smiling.</p><p>Holding up a speaker and standing on the pathway leading up his house, he smiles at him.</p><p>The music becomes clearer to him now,playing loudly from the speakers as the lyrics suddenly fall in place and enter his cerebral cortex as if to wake him up.</p><p>
  <em> And in that moment when you eye the exit signs above the door </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And everyone just wants a little more </em>
</p><p>
  <em> A little more, a little more </em>
</p><p>He watches as Iwaizumi mumbles the next lines, eyes never leaving his window, holding his gaze. He vaguely senses his mother placing her hand on his shoulder. Somewhere their neighbours peep out from open doors and slightly pulled-back curtains. But it doesn’t matter to him. They recede into a blurry grey and in his mind there’s him, there is the window, the boy below and the damn sunlight that separates them.</p><p>So when the lines flow out of the speakers, he is racing. In his head, faster and faster. Out of his room, sliding down the stairs and opening the door, he can feel the wind whip across his face and the sunlight glower at him. But he doesn’t stop. He continues. 5 feet. 3 feet. Two steps. And then the soft collision of his chest into Iwaizumi’s body.</p><p>
  <em> I'll give it back to you if you want me to </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I'll give it back to you and I'll just do without </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I'll give it back to you if you need me to </em>
</p><p>And in his mind, he stays just like that, wrapped in Iwaizumi’s arms as he lets his heartbeat fall in rhythm with his own. And he feels safe as if he can take on the sun right now.</p><p>The ending notes of the song play even as he sighs inside and rests his forehead on the glass pane.</p><p>
  <em> The heart that slows down by Crayon City. How ironic, Iwachan. </em>
</p><p> Somewhere in the horizon, the bane of his existence dips slowly with its amber limbs prising off the treetops. The wispy bands of clouds above softly glow in all shades of tangerine, lilac, crimson and the lingering blue patch now scatters.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa watches the glow of the setting sun fall on Iwaizumi’s face as a slight breeze picks up and rustles the grass around his ankle. He is beaming, all wide-eyed, with a full-blown smile as he lowers his speakers and looks at him. He knows he can’t see him but it doesn’t stop the light crimson tinge that comes on his cheek.</p><p>He stands out so glaringly in his garden and Oikawa knows even from afar that he looks beautiful. Beautiful in the way that makes him burn brighter than the sun and for the first time in his life, he feels the urge to be reckless and run towards the sun that has blazed his way into his garden and into his heart. There are countless words in his head to describe what he feels now but they don’t roll off his featherlight tongue.</p><p>So he simply presses his fingers a little more letting him know that he is there. And when Iwaizumi nods while waving his hand slightly and mouths <em> I'm sorry , </em>Oikawa knows.</p><p> </p><p>Love,he knows,is dangerous.</p><p>Like a comet skimming the stratosphere or like the tempest raging in the sea. </p><p>Which is why he counts to ten in his head waiting if a rogue planet will crash and wipe out his existence before he accepts the truth. Because at one, if no one stops him, he knows there is no turning back. But there are no rogue planets and no red signals.  </p><p>And when it reaches one, amidst the sun-drenched landscape and setting skies, Oikawa knows. </p><p>He knows he is in love. </p><p>With the boy who burns brighter than what can kill him. </p><p>There is a name for him in his head and he promises to tell Iwaizumi later.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>-----------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>               </p><p> </p><p>Oikawa leans back on the garden fence, his eyes trained on the boy in front. A little ahead, atop a ladder, Iwaizumi stands hanging up string lights on the tree. The flowers have started blooming now, hanging lower and almost touching the bushes below. </p><p>He watches the way his muscles move underneath the shirt as he raises his arm to loop a string and feels a tiny burst of heat rise to his cheeks. Iwaizumi looks good undoubtedly and Oikawa allows himself the moment to trail his eyes, his lips slightly parting unconsciously. </p><p>The porch light falls on his side profile making his midnight black hair seem lighter than other days and he looks so tranquil, as if he is a part of the evening's tapestry. It’s like the second Oikawa realized he is in love with him, it became even more clear. The way he shifts subtly, never making an extra movement. His taut arm muscles from summers working in Tokyo garages. The soft semblance of a smile he always carries. </p><p>And Oikawa falls in love more with every inch of him because Iwaizumi is the landscape in a landscape, never-ending and wide enough to hold Oikawa’s universe.</p><p>Shaking his head slightly, Oikawa approaches him and rests his arm on the ladder he is standing on.</p><p>“Iwachan?”</p><p>He looks down from above,  his arms having paused mid-air.</p><p>“My test results are coming tomorrow.”</p><p>He bites down on his lip having said what was running in his mind the whole time. Iwaizumi flings the last string high up and climbs down, the sound of his footsteps against the metal steps echoing down the street.</p><p>He runs his hand through his hair as he turns to face Oikawa, his eyes travelling the expanse of the brunette’s face before coming to rest on his eyes.</p><p>“Are you scared?”</p><p>His voice is soft but it doesn’t hide the concern laced into each word. </p><p>Oikawa shakes his head, his one arm crossing in front of his chest to hold his other elbow steady as the mild shaking returns.</p><p>“Not really.”</p><p>He sighs slowly before adding on.</p><p>“I spent so much time preparing for this but-”,he smiles, “-now that it’s here, I strangely feel okay.”</p><p>There is silence and Iwaizumi doesn’t ask further about what’s here, he doesn’t prod. There are things he is learning to keep unsaid. That way, if all of this is a story, he wants to cut out all the bad parts, like blackening over the text, and give just the good parts to Oikawa. </p><p>“Can I see it?”</p><p>He whispers softly, his words remaining in the space between them. It is a warm night today as the stars hide behind the haze of dark clouds stretched thinly above and there is a transitory moonlight falling on them.</p><p>Behind Oikawa, on the street, a car passes. The headlight’s orange glow falls on his face momentarily before disappearing into the darkness of the street.</p><p>Oikawa smiles before lifting his hand to pull down his sleeve and revealing his shoulder.</p><p>Iwaizumi sucks in his breath sharply as his eyes fall on the patch of skin. Pale, ghostly white seemingly looking so stretched and thin, he is afraid it will break open. Purple veins run like a spider’s web underneath the white patch standing out.</p><p>He raises his fingers and steps closer before hesitating. </p><p>“You can touch it.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s slow. It’s numbing. </p><p> Iwaizumi’s fingers slowly, softly, tenderly lay on his skin for a second. Lingering and touching but not quite there, he moves it slowly over the patch. There’s no word being spoken and Oikawa knows this is the wrong place and the wrong touch to be going breathless for. But he feels it all. The feeling of coming alive and dying at the same time when his fingers touch. For once, the patch of ugly skin doesn’t make him feel like a dime or a dollar or dying for that matter. He feels golden and electric the way the lines on Iwaizumi’s fingers caress his skin.</p><p>And Oikawa whispers in his head, for he is not strong enough to say it. </p><p>
  <em> Touch me. </em>
  <em>More. </em>
</p><p>Breathing slowly, Iwaizumi traces the spider lines underneath his skin. And Oikawa feels the urge to say something before he caves in.</p><p>“D-don’t they look like the sky once the sun has dipped?”</p><p>Iwaizumi stops abruptly and looks up, his eyes flying wide open to stare at Oikawa with unmasked horror.</p><p>“How could-”</p><p>“Iwachan.”</p><p>He laughs, a little shaky from the way his heart was beating erratically as a few seconds ago. Straightening up a little, he points his index towards his skin.</p><p>“Look. Here’s purple. Then this area has a light shade of pink turning into mauve at the edge. Quite frankly, I think my skin will be a pretty July evening sky.”</p><p>He finishes with a grand flourish, extending his right arm out and laughing at the way Iwaizumi’s face has morphed.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Iwaizumi watches the boy in front of him laugh in that pure unadulterated sound and he thinks he will be the prettiest of all the skies. But he doesn’t say it. As if he is afraid that if he says it, the breeze will catch it and scatter it around when it should be only for Oikawa to hear. </p><p>Instead, he reaches out to flick his forehead at such an absurd statement.</p><p>Oikawa spots the incoming attack and turns his full gaze on him, a winning smile on his face. And it works. It works because Iwaizumi pauses as his palm hangs right next to his cheek.  His gaze holds both of them in place and Oikawa knows it carries so much. It’s an unspoken promise and so much more which he doesn’t know yet. </p><p>Iwaizumi’s fingers softly touch his cheek, the dip in his palm cupping his face. And it burns a tingling trail through his skin and straight to his heart.For a second, there isn’t a sound to be heard sans a passing bicycle.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you both want to come inside and grab some fruits?”</p><p>The street lamp turns on the moment Iwaizumi’s mother calls out to them making him flinch and move back slightly. Oikawa averts his gaze and side steps him to face his mother.</p><p>She is standing on the porch holding a plate of cut fruits.</p><p>“Oba-san, you didn’t have to do so much.”</p><p>He answers cheerfully as he walks towards her, carefully avoiding the flower path.</p><p>“It’s just cutting mangoes. You make me sound old.”</p><p>She holds out the plate handing him the chopsticks and then proceeding to ruffle his hair slightly. Iwaizumi steps onto the porch, having followed right behind Oikawa and picks up a piece.</p><p>“Okaasan,please stop treating him like a child. You will scare-.”</p><p>“Please,Oba-san, you still look so young and beautiful. I was just saying that you might be tired.”</p><p>Oikawa interjects,cutting Iwaizumi off. </p><p>Iwaizumi chuckles making a face that clearly says <em> are you serious </em>to which Oikawa promptly pushes a mango piece into his mouth, laughing away under the orange glow of the porch light.</p><p> </p><p>“You know flattery won’t get you anywhere right?”</p><p>He mutters chewing down on the piece even as his mom elbows him.</p><p>“Well, I keep stealing her son for the whole night. I have to make up for it.”</p><p>The taller boy shoots back, his eyebrows arched.</p><p> </p><p>And as his mother moves, complaining about the moths while walking to dim the light, Iwaizumi smiles softly and tilts his head slightly whispering only for both of them to hear.</p><p>“Honestly,I don’t think her son minds it at all.”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a smile and a mango piece offered in acknowledgment.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i hate ao3 formatting oh god. please someone take one for the team and fix the indenting problems. </p><p>Anyway please enjoy soft content you never know when the tide changes.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. if you go, I'm going</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Iwaizumi leans forward and rests his palms on the windowpane, his breath coming out slow. Darkened grey clouds rumble across the sky as his fingers trace the line left by a trickling droplet of rain sliding down the glass pane. There is the diffused grey light, bright enough for him to see the doctor standing on the porch and talking to Oikawa’s parents.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the back of his mind, the percussion of the falling water varies as it hits different surfaces. The tapping on the window, the cymbals on the roof, the drumming on the car tops parked below and the hammering in his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Doctors don’t pay personal visits when it is good news, this he knows. He also knows it is foolish of him to dream of any different ending.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watches in silence as the adults hug and even through the sheet of precipitation plummeting to the ground, he sees the way Oikawa’s father trembles. His lips quiver as he sees the doctor step out and climb into her car. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a second, he closes his eyes and considers turning off his phone before the call comes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he doesn’t, willing his hands and his soul to sit still. And the call doesn’t come.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t remember how long he sits in the corner of his room as night falls and low ominous thunder rolls by, the vibration sending waves through his body. He only moves when his screen lights up and Oikawa’s name flashes, pursing his lips before accepting the call.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Iwachan?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His voice comes through the line, sounding like he always does. Even now, even then. Alive and racing ahead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He balls his hand up into a fist dipping his head between his knees before replying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s all he manages to croak out without giving away his crumbling walls.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come over.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a soft command but it’s a command nevertheless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi leans back resting his head against the wall as he calms himself down. He vaguely hears the click as Oikawa hangs up without waiting for an answer. He doesn’t have to wait for one anyway.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He sets the wet umbrella down when Oikawa’s mom opens the door. There is a smile on her face but it doesn’t reach her eyes and stays there hanging like the ghost of her past. Her eyes are red around the edges and he averts his gaze after bowing, afraid that one more second and he will not be able to hold his composure. Behind her, there is the shuffling of feet and Oikawa steps out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi shifts his gaze on him noticing the piece of paper he is clutching. His hands are pale and Iwaizumi wonders if he was this pale yesterday. His mom pats Oikawa’s back before turning back and rushing in, a sniffle too loud and echoing across the empty porch. If Oikawa hears it, he doesn’t act upon it and instead flops down on the first step. He pats the dry space next to him and Iwaizumi slowly sinks down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He notices a new patch of pink skin peeking out from below his t-shirt neckline. It stands out against his skin, one which he realizes is turning paler now. He grits his teeth as the unexpected pain rises in his throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eyes here, Iwachan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His voice snaps Iwaizumi out of his thoughts and he looks up to find Oikawa smiling at him with a glint in his brown eyes. There are new tiny pigments around them, dark and cold. But they don’t dim the light in those eyes and Iwaizumi chides himself internally for seeking comfort in them when he should be the one giving comfort.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shaking his head slightly, he fiddles with the hem of his sleeve before asking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did the doctor say?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He answers within mere seconds but they feel excruciatingly long and Iwaizumi holds his breath the entire time. At some point, 8 milliseconds into the wait, he feels his muscles deadening.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does it matter what she said?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oikawa’s dulcet voice comes back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes the winds out of his lungs and the answer or the lack thereof feels like ice cascading down his spine. He feels something churn in his stomach and he knows there is pain inside but it is the hollowness and the numbness that freezes his being as he sits there staring at Oikawa.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He blinks only when he feels the soft touch of a finger on his forehead parting his hair, damp from the rain falling diagonally.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Iwachan, we knew from the start it was always a matter of when and not if. Didn’t we?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi feels like a child unable to form a coherent sentence as his body reacts on its own and nods. There is a yelling in his mind to be a little braver, a little brighter but he can’t move. There is a paralyzing hurt flowing through his veins like icy cold metal liquid. He can only do so much as to simply sit there and take in Oikawa’s face through his eyes, steeling himself before the first teardrop breaks through his crumbling wall.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly Oikawa’s hand resting on his lap freezes up and he moves back a little with a jerk, something flashing in his eyes. This snaps Iwaizumi out of his rigid posture as his hands automatically move and cover the cold hand. The rain is now becoming a deluge as it pelts the ground, the street lamps’ light becoming a hazy glow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The taller boy exhales slowly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you grab that paper for me? The one this side.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gestures turning his head towards the right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi reaches out and grabs it with his fingers before coming back to his original posture and opening it. His eyes widen as the paper spreads out, the red circles immediately catching his attention. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a map with criss-cross lines running across it, folded a little too many times.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks up questioningly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a map of Miyagi.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The answer comes back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can see the encircled locations right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nods reading the names encircled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are these?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oikawa shifts, twisting his body to face him fully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Iwachan, come with me.”</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiles, a slice of rainbow in the rainy moonless night. He gingerly lifts his index finger and points at the first place marked with first.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“These are places, wanderings I have spent years looking through my screen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a hint of nostalgia in his words.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have never been able to leave Tome except for doctor visits to Sendai. So I-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi whips his head up from the map.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When you told me that you will show me around Miyagi, is this what you meant?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He feels the blood rushing in his ears, the muted roar of the earlier pain rising again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oikawa nods wordlessly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Of course. He knew it long before.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He feels sick. All this while Iwaizumi thought he was doing the leaving. Big talks about moving to the states and whatnot. But he had been terribly wrong all along.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> He runs his hand through his hair, exhaling and inhaling to calm down the frustration building up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oikawa continues, picking up from where he had been cut off by Iwaizumi's yelling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As I was saying, these are the places I want to visit. I think it’s time I stop looking at them through google maps, don’t you think so?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He says it with a hint of a chuckle but it sits heavy on the shorter boy. With each revelation, he finds himself helpless. There is nothing in him worthy enough of erasing the pain even when Oikawa jokes about it and makes light of his own situation. He masks it so gracefully but Iwaizumi learned it long ago that the voice always carries the whimper in your heart and it’s there. So painfully obvious every time he learns something from Oikawa’s past.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But will you be able to go?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks at him as his eyes take in the alarming rate in which the side- effects are setting in. He can’t bring himself to mention it though, leaving it hanging in the air knowing Oikawa will understand it anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And partially because when he thinks about it and says it, it becomes too real for him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oikawa’s eyes crinkle as his mouth curves upwards.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“ You and I know fully well that there’s just time, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is watching the rain as the words fall from his lips, the droplets hitting the roof of the porch sprinkling a few that fall on his forehead, miniscule but there. Iwaizumi doesn’t answer and waits for him to continue.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“ I want the best summer, Iwachan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“ The best one but with you there all the way.So-”, he pauses, breathing out gently, “ let me toss this line while I can.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> He turns his head, eyes catching the light and his beating heart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He says it so nonchalantly, talking of endings and beginnings in the same way he would bark about a newly introduced packet of chips. But it anchors Iwaizumi to the spot and in his mind, he notes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>All the way can be too long or too short. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Summer, however, ends with this month.</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the end Iwaizumi caves in. Anyone who sees him would have known he would. He who wants to gather the light in Oikawa’s eyes and keep them alive would have never refused anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So they sit there till midnight rolls over with its starless sky. The smell of rain-soaked ground mixes with the fragrance of the blooming lilies and engulfs their senses. Iwaizumi pores over the diligent notes Oikawa has made over the years, laughing in intervals with the additional tidbits he has added. It’s so like him to hand over a piece of brief spotlight even on the side passing characters.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There are scribblings of distance, names, opening and closing hours of places, random two liners he has noted from travel blogs, clippings he has printed. Each place has at least four pages dedicated to it, his neat handwriting running all over the place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Shouldn’t go on a rainy day. Chances of getting kicked out. Might be scary after sundown. Grab a blanket. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The notes go on, each a random snippet of his thoughts. And Iwaizumi pictures it perfectly in his mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oikawa Tooru, sitting on his sofa next to the window sill with his hardly used spectacles perched at the slope of his nose. Jotting down words, pursing his lips as he scrolls through countless words of strangers on the internet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he is aware that this is Oikawa’s way of claiming his final victory. In his pulsating, never-ending existence, it’s him taking over his own story. Writing it down the way he wants it to be remembered. He is deciding the way he will go and Iwaizumi thinks the universe doesn’t hold a chance against Oikawa Tooru, who is choosing to go how rare stars do with a stellar explosion bright enough to light up the universe for centuries and leaving his mark everywhere. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So in his grand scheme of life, Iwaizumi knows he would have never said no.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They agree to travel when the sun starts dipping in Oikawa’s father’s car since it already has protective screens. His parents don’t refuse and when they are leaving, his mom’s hand lingers on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. It’s a subtle gesture of telling him 'thank you'.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oikawa wants to begin the next day and Iwaizumi doesn’t refuse even when he doesn’t miss the swiftness of it all. He doesn’t ask because there is nothing left to ask. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yet at the back of his mind, he begs and begs and begs. For a little more time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Somewhere in the middle of planning, Oikawa leans on him resting his head on Iwaizumi’s shoulder and he doesn’t move an inch. They stay like that for a long time till the clock inside his living room chimes twelve times.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m a little tired today. Since we are starting tomorrow, I think I’ll go rest tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oikawa lifts his head up and rubs his eyes, his hand moving a little slowly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi reaches out and before he can reflect, his fingers are already pushing away the strand falling in front of his eyes, his palm touching the side of his face gently. When he realizes, Oikawa is already leaning into the warmth of his touch with his eyes closed. And they remain unmoving for a while before he retracts his hand murmuring in a hushed tone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should go up and rest now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The brown-eyed boy breathes out shakily, shivering a little from the cool breeze and the chill that has settled down like a blanket after the rain. With a soft grunt, he gets up as Iwaizumi follows suit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He holds the notepad close to his chest and faces Iwaizumi, his face tired yet glowing under the dim light. There are weary lines around his eyes and he looks cold and to the unsettling pit in his stomach, Iwaizumi vaguely knows it is due to something more than the chilliness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll see you tomorrow at 6 pm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi nods as he dusts his pants feeling the blood returning to his legs after having sat for so long.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Oikawa wordlessly takes a step forward, dragging his feet. It’s part hesitation, part the deadening feeling in his legs which he is starting to hate. Tonight, however, it’s the want that overpowers both as he collapses into Iwaizumi. There is a soft sound that escapes the other’s lips as he catches him, surprise etched on his face. Oikawa closes his eyes and raises his weak hand to rest at his broad back, sinking into the spaces where he fits himself into. It’s a moment before Iwaizumi wraps his arms around, pulling him closer and resting his head between the crook of his neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oikawa takes it all, the gentleness with which he is held and the protectiveness in his touch. And it’s all he wants, the duvet and the human shield all of it,residing in abundance in Iwaizumi Hajime.</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi doesn’t fall asleep for a long time, laying on his bed and running through his memories. The tiny moon peeking from behind the cloud sends a single line of moonlight beam falling in his room through the window. He rolls over and over, the tears pooling in his stomach but never spilling over. He doesn’t allow himself to cry, not when Oikawa holds himself up in strength far greater than he has.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the call comes, buzzing against the headboard, he springs up from his bed and strides to his open window. Panic washes over him only to be replaced by relief and then an unexpected longing when his eyes fall on the frame of the boy across the street. Oikawa is standing near his opened window, leaning against the frame with his one hand pressing the phone against his ears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks beautiful, Iwaizumi thinks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He whispers into the phone, his eyes watching the way the shadow falls on half of Oikawa’s face while the moonlight lights up the other half. It’s a captivating haze around him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I just wanted to show you one thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The reply comes back as Oikawa straightens up and places the phone down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He moves slowly, flattening his hands before placing his left elbow horizontally in front of him. It’s like watching a ritual, the way Iwaizumi’s eyes never leave him even for a second. It's slow but he waits and waits like he always has. Oikawa quietly brings down his right hand, gently tapping his left wrist before bringing it upwards. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi knows it even before he finishes the sign. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Thank you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two words come and build a home in his heart, with the tenderness that only Oikawa Tooru can possess and give.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>halfway through before we begin with our wanderings, thanks for reading this far.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. the first wandering: stealing time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Osaki city is just 25 kms away from Tome so Iwaizumi drives leisurely, turning every now and then to look at the boy next to him. The silver-grey Toyota Prius Prime cruises down the highway, not going over 60 km/h, as Oikawa fiddles with the radio while his eyes are fixed to the windshield.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even through the protective screen, Iwaizumi can see the outside in vivid clarity. The orange sky, of fiery winter hearths and tangerines,  stretches as far as their eyes can see. The sun is barely visible above the mountain at the far end down south but the warm sepia tones fall on the fields around them. In the northwest, a wind shrine towers, rotating slowly and slowly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s as lazy as a summer evening can be but not for the one next to him. For him, this is akin to daring the heavens. One single tug at the button with his elbow and if the window rolls down, Iwaizumi thinks he might just win the battle. From the corner of his eyes, he watches as Oikawa presses his face to the window and gazes outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I have never got the chance to ride shotgun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns his head back, leaning sideways on the glass and looking at Iwaizumi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is that possible? You do go to Sendai every once in a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I always slept at the back because dad plays his morning news while driving. And god forbid if I have to discuss Japan’s economy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A scoff escapes through Iwaizumi’s mouth as he steers the wheel turning left which earns an astounded gasp from Oikawa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Iwachan, did you just mock me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cross my heart. I would never do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa leans over and jabs him slightly as the low vibration of a chuckle rumbles in Iwaizumi’s chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t get what’s so funny about me not wanting to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smacks the dashboard in surprise when a robotic voice interrupts his fiery rant.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>You are 15kms away from your destination. Make a turn after 200m.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why is your google map in English? You don’t even speak conversational English. Oh god! Are we even going the right way?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He rambles as he desperately tapes on the screen struggling with the settings to switch the language.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you need to pull over. I can’t trust you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi sighs as he gently smacks his wrist and pulls away the phone placing it in the holder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know the way. I’m just learning English through this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He mutters knowing fully well what’s about to ensue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is a deafening silence and when he turns slowly, Oikawa is staring at him with the most pained expression, a dramatic hand on his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Iwaizumi Hajime.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s spoken with such solemnity and sternness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you hate studying and Hanahaki-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hanamaki”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not the point. Anyway, I know he taught you all his delinquent antics when it comes to studying. But do you really want to be kicked out of your visa interview?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His right hand is all over the place moving wildly as he mutters something along the lines of </span>
  <em>
    <span>forget-the-States-this-idiot-is-not-making-out-of-the-embassy-alive.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi hums along to the radio avoiding the jabs Oikawa is throwing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I have a lot of time to worry about it later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glances outside as the hue of pomegranate pink streaks across the sky heralding the arrival of the first star.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa crosses his arms letting out a small huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ Then what do you want to do right now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The car crosses under a line of trees standing as black statues silhouette against the darkening sky, the headlight sending two strong beams of orange haze. For a long long way theirs is the only car on the highway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leans over the handlebars, his eyes on Oikawa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right now, I’m busy because someone promised me the best summer of my life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The darkness emerges illuminating the laughter lines around Oikawa’s eyes turning from creaks to craters as he smiles at the scintillating boy next to him.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is where you wanted to come?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi hisses as he stands there flashing the torchlight wildly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks in bewilderment at the sight in front of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's a rusted broken gate towering above them with a signboard hanging by the nail. In peeling off paints the words read </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kenojuma Leisure Land. </span>
  </em>
  <span>All around the gate post and where they are standing, overgrown dried grass creeps up even as the buzz of insects intensifies with every slight movement he makes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi turns to look at Oikawa who is moving his head from left to right, his mouth slightly agape. He scrunches his eyebrow in confusion as the frustratingly gorgeous brown-eyed boy’s face lights up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly he is being dragged forward as Oikawa pushes open the gate, the creaking sound almost sounding like the gate is muttering curses at them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Iwachan, how are you not excited? It’s an amusement park.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a rundown forgotten amusement park.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He whisper-yells in the quiet of the night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s pitch black save the light from their torches and the gleam of light from a distance where there seems to be some hotel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oikawa, are we trespassing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They are plowing through knee-length grass and jumping over broken paths while he sends a quick prayer to whoever is listening that they make it out alive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa suddenly stops making Iwaizumi almost crash into him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls back in the nick of time before they both tumble. Catching himself, he shakes his legs imagining a snake to crawl out any moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you knew.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rubs his elbow squinting his eyes to get a clearer look at Oikawa. The other one is grinning at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The visiting hours ended at 5 pm. So yes we are technically committing a crime right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is still the scary grin on his face and Iwaizumi exhales before he whacks it off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ This wasn’t in your planner. This bit of information. Where was this when you had the time to write about the shop on the highway from where we can buy cookies?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He rubs his temple going over the situation in his head. Getting fined or pulled up wasn’t a part of his best summer concept. Nor is getting murdered by any roaming ghost of a child in the middle of the night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hears a rustle and the soft breathing as Oikawa steps closer to him. Slowly he feels his hand being pulled away from his temple and fingers intertwining with his. He looks down to see the pale hand fitting snugly into his as Oikawa squeezes it gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Iwachan, don’t worry about it. It can’t be so bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs as he taps his shoulder and nudges him gently to turn to his left.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi unwillingly shifts his feet, turning on his heels. There is the quiet howling of the wind running through the open plain and he tilts his head up as the view looms in on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A giant rusting Ferris wheel rises in the distance, the flaking paints reflecting the moonlight from the moon which has emerged now. The blues of the first seat merges with the almost white of the second seat above it, swinging slowly with the breeze. It is eerily beautiful in the silence of the night with half-open doors and the glass window of the lowest reflecting back their image as they stand there marvelling it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To its left, a derailed mini-train lay on the tracks, leaning slightly on the steel barriers around it. The black,blue and red of the coaches sticking out against the backdrop of dull ochre dried grass as the two of them approach slowly. A half-hidden board reads </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fairyland Pegasus</span>
  </em>
  <span> as Oikawa leans in to whisper the name into his ear. Iwaizumi flinches slightly at the proximity, thankful for the darkness that helps him discreetly cover the tinge spreading across his cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa points at a looming shadow behind the Ferris wheel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rushes forward as Iwaizumi hesitates for a second, slowing down his footsteps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi averts his gaze, clamping down on his lips knowing Oikawa will never let him live it down if he speaks now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels the back of knuckles lifting his chin up as a pair of hazelnut eyes stare into his, with the glint that can put Kreacher from Harry Potter to shame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is Iwachan scared?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gritting his teeth, Iwaizumi scoffs before marching forward and talking under his breath. His hands remain linked to Oikawa, tightening with every step as they get closer to the shadow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You must be a sadist for bringing me here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind him, the other boy laughs as he lets himself be pulled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Relax, it’s just a merry-go-round. You are about to cut off my blood circulation the way you are holding my hand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The grip loosens up, but only enough for the blood to flow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As they step across the fallen metal barrier, the merry go round appears and Oikawa leaves his hand to rush forward. He has the look of a child when they first learn to walk as he jumps up onto the raised platform. Iwaizumi watches him as he stands there, forgetting his earlier fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The round mirrors, around the roof of the merry go round, surrounded by golden coloured engravings reflect the top of the Ferris wheel. There are chariots, white-winged horses and elephants as seats, all losing their colour and the dull grey iron beginning to show. And there is him beaming and bursting with some unknown excitement as he hops about admiring the ride. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> Oikawa climbs onto a horse, his long legs fully touching the ground as he wraps his hands around the metal handle supporting the hanging horse. He giggles before calling out softly to Iwaizumi.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shoving his hands into his pockets, Iwaizumi strides forwards and steps up next to him, resting his elbow on the handle and looking at the boy smiling wide eyes at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you like it that much?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would I not? This is so cool.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa runs his hand across the length of the fake wings attached to the horse, his mouth quietly forming an ‘o’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did you want to come here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He counts the seconds in his head before Oikawa replies.</span>
  <em>
    <span> 20 seconds. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows he is not prepared for the answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s my first time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is hardly audible amidst the sound of cars passing by them on the highway and the hum of insects.Iwaizumi almost tells him to not say more but Oikawa continues, his hand coming back to rest on top of Iwaizumi. The cold sucking the warmth out of his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could not visit any amusement park for very obvious reasons.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks up and scowls for a second almost as if picking a fight with the invisible sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So this was my best alternative. A rundown one in the middle of the night. Quite tragic, don’t you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa chuckles as he rests his head on his hand wrapped around Iwaizumi’s hand and apparently oblivious to the panic building up in the other one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi scrambles in his head as he searches for something to speak but comes up blank. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can see your mind running, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reaches out his trembling left index finger to push Iwaizumi’s forehead slightly, smiling as he does so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Above them, the assemblage of glistening stars freckles the sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The serenade of the darkness hums an inaudible song for the two of them as he leans in, murmuring in his euphonious voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For what it’s worth,I learned with you that there’s such a thing as a perfectly run-down amusement park. The merry go round doesn’t work and that’s a pity but you understand right? Up close, nothing looks ugly when you’re with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small content sigh escapes his mouth as he looks at Iwaizumi with gold dust shimmering in his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There isn’t a word spoken as Iwaizumi pulls the boy closer, pressing him to his body, filling up the crevices and the spaces. Every ounce of them pressed into one, together. He feels the soft strands of his perfectly tousled brown hair tickle the dip in his neck as he inhales slowly, his lips resting on top of his shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The world stops moving on its axis for a moment as they stay unmoving on the still merry-go-round. As if to say. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Here. Take some more time. And some more. </span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The universe, you see, tends to get kinder when you are losing against it. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa feels the exhaustion setting in his limbs, the muscles deadening as the numbness creeps up from his toes. He curls and uncurls them silently as they cruise along the empty highway. He feels the tremor starting again in his hand, the fingers stiffening up as he presses down on it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Outside they zoom past lampposts in a haze, the orange glow moving across their faces for just a few seconds and Oikawa is thankful for the darkness. His lips are pursed with beads of sweat forming on his forehead and he is unsure if this is the side effects of his disease or the way his heart is beating out of his rib cage at the moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that very moment, he feels a warm hand rest on his shaking hand and he looks down in surprise to see Iwaizumi’s hand firmly holding his hand still as he maneuvers the car with one hand. It is almost sickening the way his heartbeat accelerates at the simple touch, the overwhelming tingling sensation erupting like fireworks in his head. It is one thing to run around the town tugging at Iwaizumi’s hand and it’s another thing to be in an enclosed space and have him being held so fondly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop the car.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He manages to croak out as Iwaizumi suddenly steps on the brake, whipping his head in panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is something wrong? Does it hurt? Let me see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls his hand peering at his trembling fingers with the cautious eyes. Laughing inwardly, Oikawa pushes his head away before stepping out of the car, suddenly grateful for the distance and the open space. He knows another moment in there and he would have started waxing poetry about Iwaizumi. And that’s the last thing a dying person should do to someone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At Least that’s what is written in his manual of ten ways to make it easy for people to let you go. It’s the number one rule which he has side-eyed and let it be.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<ul>
<li><b>Don’t get too close.</b></li>
</ul><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well shit, he clearly didn’t think it through when he wrote that. Because the moment Iwaizumi came barging into his life, all shadowed features, glaring aura and then masked gentleness on their first encounter , Oikawa knew he was done for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hears the opening of the door on the other side as Iwaizumi steps out and walks towards him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you need something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa nods, his face lighting up. He feels the adrenaline burst from his lungs towards his extremities as he looks at the boy in front of him. And he knows he needs to let the feelings out somehow before he explodes. There is so much love, so so much love in him and the yearning prickles on his fingertips threatening to break past his barrier and pull Iwaizumi in, crashing all into one.  Their hearts, their bodies and their lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he doesn’t say a word as he turns around and plunges straight into the field next to the road, yelling as he almost tumbles down. He catches himself grabbing on to some makeshift scarecrow before laughing away and running ahead. He runs as fast his sick legs can take him before his feelings catch up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oikawa? What are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi yells as he throws his hand up in exasperation before crawling in through the window to turn on the headlights and focus it on the boy. He slowly steps into the field as Oikawa races ahead, waving his hand and laughing as he moves around the field. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sweet sickly smell of flowers mingles with the midnight breeze and all around them, there is the burst of yellow, the ones where you weave your dreams into. The tall daffodils sway in the wind, their perfect trumpet head with soft crinkled edges bobbing up and down. They look more beautiful, more ethereal than the citrine but they are vulnerable and fleeting. And in the middle of them stands the boy who puts this landscape with all its beauty to shame. And he is the most fleeting one of them all, passing before he leaves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiles and calls out his name in the silence of the midnight, throwing his head back as he does so. He plucks a daffodil and tucks it behind his ear posing a little as if to say watch me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Above there is the perfect velvet midnight with stars that draw eyes heaven-bound but his eyes remain on Oikawa Tooru, walking- breathing sublime painting who only he has the right to look at that night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the words fall in his mind so perfectly, words to describe him. How when Oikawa laughs, Iwaizumi swears he knows the stars sigh in unison and how his stardust soul lights up the universe. And he is no more talking about the world. It’s his universe being lit up by Oikawa and somewhere between his creation and his eventual collapse, he sends a word of gratitude above. For this moment where there are two pulses beating in time in the same space. One of his and one of Oikawa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi stands there, suddenly aware of everything around him. The breeze, the delicate brush of the flower along his forearm, the headlight behind him lighting up a single spot in the darkness and the blazing, burning star in front of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s here when he realizes he is in love with someone. With the boy who lives in the house opposite to his, the boy who glides along like musical notes, the boy who lives on the edge of the universe teasing fate. He is in love, having fallen unconsciously through blurry yet perfectly clear nights. And it has always been incessantly, continually, constantly Oikawa Tooru.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands push past the rows and rows of flowers as his legs lead him while his heartbeat stills. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And oh so quietly they beat while the universe watches them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oikawa is within his arm’s reach when he looks at Iwaizumi with a questioning look. Clapping his hands, he bends down to pick a flower ready to put it behind the approaching boy’s ear, speaking loudly between giggles about finding the largest flower. He finds one humming in satisfaction as he looks up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The humming dies in his throat the moment his mind calculates the lack of space between them when Iwaizumi closes in, his arms pulling him towards his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa looks at him, searching his eyes for a sign and Iwaizumi almost breaks out of his heart, the yearning overpowering his senses. He inhales softly as his thumb moves lightly caressing Oikawa’s cheekbones and he comes to a rest hovering above the divot of his lips. They part under his hovering fingers, a warm breath escaping them and he reels a little. He is alluring in the ways misty forests are, drawing and pulling Iwaizumi in and his eyes invade the little bit of resistance he has left. He cups his face pulling him slightly lower to let his lips brush softly past his cheeks and Oikawa whimpers underneath his touch, his hands wrapping tighter around Iwaizumi’s waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows there is no going back the moment he lets his defense fall and collides his lips against his so he wills himself to pause for a moment, bringing their foreheads together. For a second, they both stay still staring at each other’s eyes, reading, asking, hoping. And then Oikawa presses closer, mumbling the words into the space between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hajime, if you don’t kiss me right now,I might just lose my mind.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s in the way his name tumbles from his lips, in his rough undertones laced with something so addictive that Iwaizumi feels the last chip of wall fall away. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hajime, he said. Hajime in his dulcet sensuous voice, sending shivers racing through his bones. Hajime like it was meant for only him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He runs his voice over and over again in his head as he closes in the space between them capturing Tooru’s lips with his. His hand slowly moved, holding his head as Oikawa leans down slightly to press his lips deeper, the curves of them fitting into his. His fingertips gently draw circles against the small strip of bare skin nape and Tooru breaks off with a gasp, his lips trembling.They both look at each other, with flustered cheeks taking short, shallow breaths before Oikawa leans down. Iwaizumi brings both his hands up to pull him in before meeting his lips again but this time with a swift gradation of intensity and Oikawa smiles against his lips. Iwaizumi feels strong, pressed up against him, like he is the only anchor holding him back from drifting away. And god, he wants to be held back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hajime holds him close, trying to etch in his mind the way it feels to have Oikawa fitting into every crevasse of his body. The soft caress of his lips against him, the way his hair slips through his fingers as he runs his hand through them, the faint scent of his lavender perfume strongest along the line of his neck and him, an intoxicating mix of familiarity and warmth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pens it down in his memories, all of Tooru’s curves and edges, his soft whimpers and his parted lips. And he feels it in his bones, the exhilarating feeling of being infinite at that moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has the boy he loves in his arms and when Tooru rests his cheek against Iwaizumi’s chest, a small smile playing on his lips, Hajime loves and loves and loves. And he doesn’t dare say it but he knows one thing for sure. Tooru’s lips. Even the word sounds holy to him. The curves, the minuscule gap between them, the anemone pink which gradually merges with the sunset scarlet around his cupid’s bow. These are now the stations of his quietest, most inexorable desires. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even with his disease and the fading patches of skin, with his slower movements and his barely hidden tremors, Oikawa Tooru is sacrosanct and there is nothing more for Hajime other than to love endlessly.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The second wandering takes a little while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> For a week, day in and day out the doctor comes each day with a heavier brown package. Files and files, paperwork, tumbling paper clips unable to hold the piling up sheets. There is not enough study on XP and they prod and prod asking all sorts of questions to Oikawa. Iwaizumi sits next to him most of the time, holding him up as he rests on his shoulder answering as much as he can. There are times when he can’t breathe in the room. Times when he looks at Oikawa hidden between the oversized blanket with chapped lips and fading skin and he feels the air get knocked out of his lungs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knows no one is at fault here. And they are trying, noting information, dissecting Oikawa under their scrutinizing gaze and endless interrogations. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We are sorry we can’t do anything about you. </span>
  </em>
  <span>This they don’t say.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s to save the next person.</span>
  </em>
  <span> This they say. And Oikawa smiles. He doesn’t ask why they can’t save him. Trying on their part is enough for Oikawa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it isn’t enough for Iwaizumi and at times when his walls crumble, he runs. Alone, for as long as he can, while the tears break forth and spill over the brim. And when they are alone together, he holds him close whispering his stories and listening to Oikawa talk about all that he has seen in this town. It isn’t enough but Hajime takes it all, the small chuckles, the fingers intertwined, the welcomed weight on his chest as Oikawa lays there curled up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You don’t get to make bargains with fate and he knows.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this was one of my favourite bit to write. Iwa knows Tooru is ill but hey, who cares about the damn universe when you can spend your days being in love with Oikawa.<br/>Meet me on twitter. @lovingoikawa_</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. the second wandering: the sound of you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>please play the middle section of the playlist. And yall can interact with me on Twitter @lovingoikawa_ or you can comment here I would love love to hear what you guys think</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Oikawa flits between the incoming crowd, navigating his way as he pulls Iwaizumi along excitedly. Sendai city with its expanding chaos swirls around as cars zip past them on the road and the cacophony of strangers descend on Iwaizumi’s eardrums which had gotten accustomed to the pin-drop silence of his neighbourhood in Tome.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He yells above the wave of people craning his neck to see the back of Oikawa disappearing behind an old man selling paraphernalia of plastic toys.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are we going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ahead of him, the reply comes back almost in a second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Iwachan, how have you not caught on by now? We are going to the festival.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The crowd thins out a little as he tugs his hand back pulling Tooru towards him from behind. Next to them, a giant electric board runs an ad of some actress he doesn’t recall as the bright city lights bounce off the glass windows of shops and restaurants. Somewhere, the skyline looms in the dark with small windows of lights as strangers type away into their laptops in their cramped office cubicles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you be okay? I mean, to walk around so much with such a crowd.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He speaks in a lower voice as Oikawa turns back to face him. Iwaizumi takes in his condition with dimming eyes. His face is slowly becoming thinner with the increasing dark lines of pigmentation around his eyes. There are chalk-white spots on his skin beneath the shirt and he knows. He knows because he has spent nights tracing them, cursing them and yet touching them so gently. His leg movement is becoming slower, the muscles slowly losing their mobility,even if he still hops around and waltz around, stumbling a little at times but always getting up and continuing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> Oikawa runs his lips swiftly across his chapped ashen lips before answering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He steps in closer holding both of Iwaizumi’s hands, the left one just managing to grab his wrist albeit the stiffness in them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not like the other festival. You will see soon enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then wh-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A finger is placed on his lips as Oikawa pulls him into an alley before they emerge into another street.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen carefully, Iwachan.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It comes faintly at first, riding on the night breeze past him. The vibration of drums bouncing off the glass window next to him and a melody entwined with the whiff of street food sizzling on hot pans. He is busy looking around trying to find the source when they come to a stop making him face the front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ahead of them, there is a line of zelkova trees, rising above the street casting long shadows on the asphalt. Their branches touch the surrounding buildings like paintbrushes splashing a myriad of red, orange and green paint, dipping low enough to touch the rooftops of the street stalls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that is not what drew his eyes to. His eyes are fixed at the sight in front of him, his ears acutely becoming aware of the chaotic yet harmonious blend of sounds crashing into them. Flashing lights, warm yellow bulbs and colourful flickering splash pastels and colour on the canvasses of the moving humans. And there are stages built on foyers of the buildings with instruments strewn on the sidewalks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jozenji Street Jazz Festival.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa announces with an impressive accent reeking with grandiose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi laughs and processes everything as he picks up the sounds of jazz, rock, pop and gospel songs all drifting across the lane,crashing and crossing each other. He tears his gaze away from the people on stage belting their hearts out to look at Oikawa standing next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am surprised and yet not surprised at the same time. A music festival is very like you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have been itching to visit this place ever since I stumbled upon an article three years ago. Oh look! They are playing Chet Baker.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls Hajime along to the sidewalk in front of a jewellery shop where two men are playing Almost blue, the sound of their trumpets flowing in an easy listen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know my knowledge of Jazz ends with Chet Baker, Nat Cole and Frank Sinatra right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes I wish I was in Tokyo. Maybe I would have shaped you and pink-haired boy better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa mutters, crossing his arms with a sullen expression. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> Sniggering to himself, Hajime wraps his arm around Tooru’s waist, sighing contentedly inside as the other leans in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The song slowly picks up a crowd as people pile in around them, waving cameras and swaying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know-”, Oikawa tilts his head to look at Iwaizumi, “-I actually placed a bet with myself when I got to know about this place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head, smiling at some snippets of his past Iwaizumi doesn’t know, before continuing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to come and play here once. How naive of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grins to himself but his eyes fall on the ground as he shuffles in his place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's a while before he speaks again, leaning in closer now his hand reaching out to hold Iwaizumi’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At some point,I cancelled that bet since I can. And then decided to just simply make it here. I think it was when I realized that one day I will not be able to play the piano anymore. Making it here was starting to sound more challenging then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are here n-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you are with me.” He cuts him off, twisting sideways to face Hajime oblivious to the people around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you walked into my life. I made it here.I would have never left Tome if you didn’t come along, tumbling into my life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He repeats softly, running his thumb along his jawline.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hajime’s lips quiver as he closes his eyes, tightening his hold before murmuring back, loud enough to be heard over Chet Baker and soft enough to be between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to hear you more. And more and more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lets out a hollow laugh as his voice cracks around the edges.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard you only once but do you know? Do you know how incredibly privileged it makes me feel to have been your audience?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The corner of Tooru’s lips lifts up as he bumps their forehead tenderly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I can always sing for you. Hmm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He points a finger to Hajime’s chest right where his heart beats quietly before continuing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And when I can’t, just remember the sounds of me so that you can always hear me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s spoken so casually like he always does but it hangs in the air, numbing Hajime’s soul. This is also a part of Tooru. Leaving bits of him with Hajime so that he can bring him back to life in his memories. Because people like Tooru, they don't simply just go. Atleast not from the ones they are in love with. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I would kiss you right now and kiss away those damn tears threatening to fall from your emerald eyes. But-”, he glances to his left scrunching his eyebrow in irritation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ I’m not so sure if this lady next to us will survive the heavenly sight of us lip locked.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A shaky laugh escapes Hajime’s lips as he squeezes Oikawa’s hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly the strumming of guitar breaks through the comfortable hum of the background as the singer’s voice wade through the crowd causing Oikawa’s eyes to widen. He moves away from Hajime, slightly swaying and clicking his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rushes headlong into the moving crowd headed towards the stage in front of the shopping arcade. Iwaizumi follows him, jogging a little to not lose sight of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Why are we rushing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Up ahead, Tooru swirls around under the neon lights and stretches out his hand towards Iwaizumi. His lips move as he sings the song loudly walking backward, his eyes never leaving Hajime.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A point where two worlds collide</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, we’ll rebel”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their hands meet as the rhythm of the instruments twirl like thread around them. And when the drums pick up the pace, Oikawa is shaking his head and practically yelling the song. He forces Hajime to move, their arms flailing together from side to side as bodies press in on them. There is hardly any breathing space but it is spacious enough for both of them in his head. There’s him, the music and there’s Tooru.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And we run</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And we run</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And we run</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And we run</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Until we breakthrough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The synthesizer comes in, then the bass guitar and then the drums. Spinning round and round with him, Tooru laughs, his lips moving in an exaggerated way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I get high enough,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will I see you again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They spin awkwardly, Hajime laughing as he stumbles on his feet, too many times. The crowd moves around them, bumping shoulders, rising above gravity as the warm late summer evening air is punctured with whoops and hollers. The flashing lights and the golden fairy lights hung above shine down on them as they move together.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If I do this thing right</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll dream of our escape</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Hajime thinks his love is so lovely, he thinks he wants this to last forever and when the music slows down, they meet in the middle, three inches apart with Oikawa grabbing his arm, clutching his stomach and laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some moves you have, Hajime.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hugs him, pulling him away to the steps behind a standee, masked from the rest of the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stay there, huddled in the corner as Tooru rests his back on Hajime’s chest. He is wrapped in Hajime’s warmth, snuggling into the space for him. He hums softly to the piano sounds drifting down the lane, watching people sway in unison under the lights.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hums and Hajime records it in his heart, listening to his breathy tones, the rise, and fall of his chest, the vibration seeping through their skin separated by mere fabrics. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paints in his head the way Tooru looks, eyes wide and gleaming while watching the performances, the tapping of his index finger on Hajime’s palm where he plays his imaginary piano, the way his lips move as the words tumble out only for him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knows his memory won’t do justice to this view but it’s all he gets.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span> That night, he finds himself perched again on his window sill. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tooru was tired, his voice decreasing in volume while returning back and Hajime had sent him home directly. He had protested and stuck out for a while on his porch begging Iwaizumi to stay and it had taken all his willpower to force him to go rest.Now Iwaizumi can’t help but wish he had just been selfish and stayed with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because at that very moment, he is clutching his phone while his finger hovers over the call button. And there is an unexplainable sadness tightening a noose around his heart. He can’t breathe and he needs to hear his voice. There is the ache that comes and goes, sitting in his gut like the fire that burns so slowly. It’s him being greedy, it’s him wanting more of whatever little time they have and he can’t help when the rage swirls unrestrained in his heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is always a question and never an answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why him?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lets the first two rings go before shaking his head and proceeding to cut the call when Oikawa’s voice comes through the line.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hajime?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah fuck! I’m sorry, you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi strains his ear to catch the sound of sleep in his voice, internally scolding himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nothing. Really. It’s so silly and I don’t know why I called. You should go back to sleep, okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait! Don’t cut the call yet. What is it? I’m not sleeping right now anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lies. His voice is heavy and he sounds exhausted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing, Iwaizumi rests his head on his knee, looking at the empty dark window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s so silly of me.I just missed you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words barely come out as he whispers into the phone. There are so many things he wants to say more than that. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I want to hold you. I want to see you smiling at me right now. Heck, I’ll take it if you want to sprint across the town right now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But he doesn’t say any of that. Because it all comes down to this. He misses Tooru. And the ache of longing echoes through the marrow of his bones.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“See? You should have just listened to me in the first place. I told you that you will regret it when you were so adamantly pushing me inside my house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is laughter in his voice, even as they sound hoarse. There is the rustling of sheets and a creaking sound. Oikawa clicks his tongue and says to no one in particular. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I told him so.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t get up. Just stay on your bed. I can hear you, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hears a childish scoff through the line.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not getting up. I can’t anyway since my legs feel like they have decided to have a separate sleeping session without the rest of my body.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s why I am saying I’ll hang up. Just get some rest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes the phone away from his ear unwillingly and almost slides across the end button.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you just talk to me? Till I fall asleep?I promise I’ll close my eyes. You can't see but my eyes are closed."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hajime almost curses out loudly as his eyes become glassy in his own company. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He loves hearing the sound of Tooru sleeping but it all gets too real for him whenever he is sitting in the silence next to him. His soft breathing, the rise of his chest gently before it falls, the minuscule movement he makes. He sleeps in such a still manner and Hajime always sits there afraid, too afraid that one day he will not make a single movement or exhale. It terrifies him because now he knows how he is when he is sleeping. Yet he agrees every time to watch him or hear him sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm so weak. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He mumbles in his head bitterly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hajime?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.I'm here don't worry. I'll stay till you fall asleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have any regrets?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi widens his eyes at the question even as his mind whirrs, throwing out options. Regrets? He should have a lot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will it be him declining the scholarship from Keio university? Or the time when he refused a car for his birthday? Bunking all his English classes, missing his father’s birthday because he was busy taking care of Hanamaki’s drunk crying alter ego, that one blind date and the list goes on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pauses to check if Oikawa is asleep yet before he hears a soft hmm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- I wish I came here sooner. I should have just agreed when dad offered to shift last year. Back then I was reluctant and I didn’t think Tome would have anything for me.I should have just packed up and come. Then,I would have had a longer time with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There's a lengthy pause, long enough for him to wonder if he fell asleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes I wish you came here a little earlier. There are- god, there are so many things I want to do with you.But look. Here we are rushing and racing."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tooru laughs bitterly on the other end. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi sits there in silence allowing his words to fester in his mind, till they break through the chambers of his heart and spread itself out with searing pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Hajime-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He coughs softly and there is the sound of the blanket being pulled up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter now.I know they call me a ticking time bomb and yet you are still holding my hands. Hence it doesn’t matter how long it took for us to meet because this summer makes up for all of my lifetime. You, us, our wanderings. This is the part of my story I’m taking with me”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tooru-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You make me feel so alive,Hajime. And that is all I ever wanted so it’s okay. You are here.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>There is the torrid vortex of the moment and he sits there for a long time, long into the night after Tooru has fallen asleep. There is the sound of his gentle breathing and Hajime smiles with dried up tears on his cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not yet. </span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. the third wandering : home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Where are we going now? All I know is I am driving to Ishinomaki and that’s also because you typed the name into the map.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Iwachan, do you live in a cave? Or do you simply just don’t believe in checking out places? God! Am I dating a fossil?” Oikawa deadpans, incredulously before sighing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who in their right mind will believe you are from Tokyo?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How am I supposed to check if I don’t know the name of the place?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi turns left before looking at Oikawa, having the nerve to look offended.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean? You spent hours poring through my journal and even made fun of me inserting my cute doodles.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His voice is rising an octave now as he shifts in his seat wildly while glaring at Iwaizumi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have a lot of trust in my memory.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi states in a solemn tone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From the corner of his eyes, he chuckles as Oikawa throws both his hands up in exasperation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine. Keep driving. You will see when you get there because it’s hard to miss.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He reaches over to fiddle with the stereo before settling on one channel and then leans back on his seat, looking outside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are sometimes unbelievable, Iwachan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tries to hide it but the smile in his voice doesn’t fail to softly brush past Iwaizumi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are we at an abandoned housing complex? This is even sketchier than the dead amusement park.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi stares at the small signboard peeking out from between overgrown bushes.</span>
  
  <span>He moves the creepers covering the letters to have a better look at it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Kasetsu Kaisei Danchi</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tooru?Why are we here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come with me. You will get it once you see it. Just ignore the things strewn around.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He walks inside the complex,his fingers wrapped around Hajime’s wrist.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There are columns and columns of shipping containers lined up with perfect distance in between. Doors hang open and there are lines stretched between poles, broken plastic chairs and plastic pieces floating above the ground with the brief gusts of wind. Remnants of people who lived there are imprinted in the small miscellaneous details left. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“After the earthquake, people were housed here temporarily. They converted these large containers to houses. Did you not see this news then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oikawa points out the number plates attached to each house.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did. I remember bits of it but back then, the news was all about the earthquake and the tsunami. So everything was just a massive blur.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The brunette nods before pulling towards the end of one column of houses before turning a corner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The place is abandoned with no lights except for the distant glow from the street light behind the compound wall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Iwaizumi whistles arching his left eyebrow when he sees it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unlike the front view of the container houses, with its dull grey and emotionally cold sight, the backside is a burst of warm colours. It’s as if someone came and threw chaotic and crumpled rainbows and swirling paint on the wall. There are giant sunflowers, erupting in tangerine hues and there are pink tulips creeping up from below. Arts of different fishes adorn the place, all the shades of colours merging and diverging.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is a graffiti artist called Hamilton Yokota. He is also called Titi Freak.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi stops his whistle abruptly turning his head sharply at the nickname, which earns him a light punch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh stop it. Jeez, your mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t say anything now. Did I?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oikawa gives him a disapproving glare even though he shuffles in closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anyway, moving on. What was I saying? Oh yes. He came here when the tsunami-affected people were being housed for a while. I heard he was invited by the Japan foundation but that, I’m not so sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He points his finger towards an art of swirling waves of blue, pink, purple and white.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He felt the boxes looked soulless. Also, everyone was recovering from the aftermath of the disaster then and the empty bare steel containers did nothing to lighten their spirits up. So he painted these along with the residents.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He exhales as Hajime wraps an arm around him, his hand rubbing his right arm up and down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, so these arts were the community’s defibrillator?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oikawa lets out a short laugh looking at his boyfriend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. Defibrillator. Only you will think of it like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not wrong though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hajime shrugs, craning his neck to look at the art in more detail.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a moment before Oikawa speaks again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Indiana.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi cocks his head slightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is this place in Indiana. It is less of a place actually since it’s an abandoned building.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what about it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The walls are filled with graffiti,art bleeding from the canisters as people just spray out their feelings onto the wall. People come and spray paint over each other’s feelings. I think that’s beautiful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rubs his hand before rocking on his heels.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But aren’t all graffiti walls like that? Just a huge imposing 8m wall where people render their static emotions into colours and forms. Isn’t that so?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“ More or less. But I am talking of a particular wall. There is a wall of that building where for rows and rows people have filled up things they want to do before they die. It’s the ‘before I die’ wall.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi looks at the boy next to him, a wistful look in his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p><span> He ruffles his hair and before he can get a yelling for ruining them, he speed walks towards the spray cans lying about on top of a small cardboard platform behind the first house. They are half empty and</span> <span>some of them have paints leaking out but there are just the two of them and he thinks this should be enough.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>He strides back and grabs Tooru pulling him towards one of the sidewalls which are empty.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t answer as he shakes the can before starting from the left corner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi writes </span>
  <b>
    <em>Before I  die I want to</em>
  </b>
  <span> in white colour and he draws a line. He writes it again and a dozen more times filling up the left side without a word.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you can’t be in Indiana, we will just make our own corner here. And then maybe someday, someone will find it and add their own dreams.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiles as he switches the colour before starting to fill it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Learn how to play the piano. Dive from a cliff. Drive from one end of the country to the other end. Manage a spicy tantanmen without giving up. Attend Taichi’s concert. Slow down.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a long time, Oikawa stands there reading Hajime’s list without a word.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks up and walks towards him, his hand gently tugging at his wrist and dragging him closer to the wall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me. I’ll write for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t need to say why he will write it. It stays unspoken between them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His right hand too had started getting the tremors and Hajime didn’t need a degree to know what was happening. Oikawa’s brain atrophy had begun long ago and now his cerebral hemispheres were shrinking making him lose his motor functions slowly but in increasing gradation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the tremors began in his right hand, they were eating ice cream together. One moment they were laughing and then suddenly, the spoon had fallen out from between his index and thumb fingers startling both of them. With the ice cream splattered on the table, Oikawa had sat there as the shock waves gathered at the threshold of his head ready to pull him down. He didn’t know when his lips trembled or when the tears started rolling down his cheeks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hajime had gathered him up in his arms and stayed like that for the whole night, as he broke down in his arms quietly. They know there are counted days at the back of their minds but when the reminders come once in a while, tears well up in the cracks of their skin, their walls and their hearts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oikawa shoves his hand into his pockets before leaning back in some pretentious thoughtful pose.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have a lot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just say it, will you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> He laughs before starting to recite them and Iwaizumi mutters his comments non stop as he spray paints the wall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Have a star wars movie marathon. </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>Really? Are you kidding with me?</span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>Wake up the entire neighbourhood at 4 am. Steal the signboard of the old cranky uncle’s shop from down the street. </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>He’s 85 years old ,Tooru. Let the man be.</span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>Ride a car cruising at 110km/h. </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>Count me out.</span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>Dye my hair pink.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi pauses abruptly and looks at him, his eyebrow raised while Oikawa gives him a cheeky grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You really do hate Makki, don’t you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I never said anything. Don’t put words in my mouth,Iwachan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi rolls his eyes at the dramatic, over the top acting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have one last wish.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes of course. Tell me. Kill Makki? Or commit arson because the mart now doesn’t sell that tasteless chocolate of yours?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shakes the can, crouching low, before getting ready to press it down. There’s a silence before Tooru’s voice comes in a soft whisper.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell Iwaizumi Hajime that I love him.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s the hissing sound of the canister being pressed lightly while Hajime’s heart rattles in the cage. He sits there, momentarily dazed as Tooru’s words wash over him before marking itself in every acre of his heart. He feels the spray canister being pried out of his finger slowly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oikawa kneels down and uses his left thumb to press down on his right thumb, attempting to subdue the trembling. With shaking hands he raises it to the wall and begins spraying the first letter. It’s slow, so excruciatingly slow but Hajime waits and he doesn’t even realize when he stops breathing. It’s shaky and messy, the letters going up and down over the line and the paint mixing in between the letters. But he finishes it and when he’s done, Hajime thinks it’s the prettiest darn thing in the world. And whoever will come, he sends them a prayer in his mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t paint over this. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span> It’s written in bold, on the wall of some abandoned house.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Tell Iwaizumi Hajime that I love him.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it’s enough, more than enough to last for a lifetime.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oikawa inches closer, shifting to a crouching position till his eyes are on the same level with the warmest pair of eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> They say, you don't realize how cold you are till you actually feel the warmth seeping into you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that is exactly how Tooru feels about Hajime except it’s in infinite times. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“ If I had lesser love for you in me, I might be able to put my thoughts better into coherent sentences. But all I know right now is, ever since I learned what it is to be held by your love,everything is a little less ordinary and I feel so brave. So brave like I could outrun this universe, this ebbing time, this disease."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He places his hand on Hajime's cheek,his fingers trembling as they come to rest on the curve of his cheekbones. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And I know I’m in love with you, because with you, 'wherever we are' becomes as certain a geography like Tokyo or Miyagi or ‘home’. So this is me telling you. I love you Hajime.I love you so much.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There is the sound of their muffled heartbeats and then the grace of a butterfly touch as his lips softly caress Iwaizumi before pressing deeper.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi holds him, supporting as they move in sync, fitting seamlessly like puzzle pieces at all the right corners. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulls away for a moment, gazing into his hazel eyes with autumn undertones at the brim.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He whispers with all the sincerity he has in him and it's enough because Tooru knows. There are people who wear their hearts on their sleeves but not Iwaizumi Hajime. He carries his world in his eyes and then, at that moment, all Tooru ever sees is his own reflection. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi smiles as Oikawa falls into the space between his arms, custom made for him and his frame. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s them on their knees, wrapped in their own embrace behind an abandoned house and Hajime thinks of the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>home.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It falls in place, fitting like a missing piece and he realizes that he’s been waiting to come home for so long.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it was right here, in Tome, in the room across his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He holds Oikawa’s hands tightly and he thinks of white lanes, tranquil homes and clear skies. Of daffodils and jazz music. Of swallowing the sun and letting the night go on forever and he knows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s home.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That night, Iwaizumi runs through the neighbourhood alone, in the black Tome night under a ceiling of stars. He thinks of the word “Ikigai” and how it exactly describes the way he feels with Tooru.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had been running for so long, racing through life and one day, Tooru came tumbling into his life and just like that, suddenly Hajime wanted to not just exist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wants to be the boy Oikawa Tooru sees. Living and not just existing, walking and weaving dreams into reality,someone with meaning beneath his skin,someone more than just a name in a sleepless city.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Hajime smiles to himself because that’s exactly how he feels right now, with infinite feelings coursing through his veins. It is a powerful feeling to be loved and not just by anyone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s a powerful feeling to be the boy Oikawa Tooru loves.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i like going in circular narration so if you read further, you will realize that I will tie up a lot of the things I mentioned before. anyway, Thank you for reading this far.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. satellite love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>The thing about XP is that once the neurological degeneration starts with brain atrophy, the disease gradually starts to break the person down slowly. With the contraction of his cerebrum, Tooru starts losing his motor abilities as his joint contraction begins. There is something achingly unfair about the boy who once raced across the town at night to be now confined within his house, leaning on people, railing and clutches to move. And Iwaizumi knows there is nothing he can do. Their wanderings come to an end as they spend days holed up in Oikawa’s room, completing the things he wants to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Do they sit for a whole night watching the entire Star Wars series? Yes, they do. Absolutely. Do they wake up the entire neighbourhood at 4 am? Well, they would have because Iwaizumi was all raring to go and play the speaker in the middle of the street before Oikawa pushed him down pinning him on his bed. Love makes you be able to do a lot of things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Does Oikawa dye his hair pink? Unfortunately, Hanamaki video called them and he had to begrudgingly admit that he is nice so he dropped the idea. But not before he gave him an earful for no damn reason.  And thus they spend the days ticking off the list in Oikawa’s head and it is always a signal, a flashing headline reminding Iwaizumi that somewhere time is ticking away. But he pushes it at the back of his mind, choosing to spend nanoseconds loving Tooru. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the month slowly ticks down to the last week.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s in the box?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa snuggles deeper within the folds of Iwaizumi’s jacket as they lay sprawled on the couch while his parents lay out food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I went downtown in the morning and brought your favourite Takoyaki. The aunty gave an extra serving in loving memory of all those times you praised her dramatically.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I would have gone broke if I didn’t pull some strings. Besides who can resist my charm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pokes Hajime’s sides as the other turns away his face while rolling his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa’s mother comes and places down the last plate and sinks into a couch before lowering the volume of the TV.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My God, I’m sure the neighbours at the end of the street can hear this scam of a movie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oka-san, did you just call Iwachan’s favourite movie a scam?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He perks up as much as he can, even as his body droops leaning a little on Iwaizumi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi laughs from behind him, his arms around his waist beneath the jacket. If their parents noticed that their friendship has blurred lines, they didn’t ask. Oikawa has this theory that when you are dying, people easily forgive you and let you break their beliefs. It’s their way of showing sympathy, according to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi disagrees with him obviously but he doesn’t argue simply because he can not use death and Oikawa in the same sentence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hajime picks up an onigiri and gingerly places it in front of Tooru helping him to hold it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oka-san,Oto-san”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks at Tooru curiously as the boy faces his parents, an unfathomable look in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you know how Hajime and I have been ticking off things from my bucket list, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hesitant nod comes from his mother as she wipes her hand while trying to figure out her son.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, there is one more thing I want to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa turns to look at Hajime as the other boy sighs while smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tooru, we can not steal the sign-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to feel the sun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words die in Hajime’s throat as his mind freezes. Oikawa looks at him with shadowed eyes but there is so much being spoken through them in the room that has now fallen silent. He is requesting. For the first time, Oikawa Tooru is begging Iwaizumi Hajime. And there is barely a thread of resistance in his body to say no. Wide-eyed, he faces Oikawa’s parents who are looking at him. His mom has a palm covering her mouth and Iwaizumi knows that the tears are beneath her skin threatening to spill over. There are sputtering words and flustered movement of her head as she looks at her husband. But he is also sitting there, stunned into silence, his hand resting on the edge of the plate. In the background, the movie plays in incoherent volume, the only sign in the room that it is not frozen in time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mother tries to speak and fail four times as she runs over what to say in her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oka-san, please let me have this wish. I swear I won’t ask for anything more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t say that there won’t be anything left to ask after this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is a pregnant pause and Tooru fiddles with the hem of Iwaizumi’s jacket sleeves, his fingers trembling as he pulls a string. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, his dad’s low voice rings out in the pin-drop silence of the room, the heaviness in them barely concealed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Tooru, what about your legs? Will you be able to move so much? What if some adverse sudden reaction takes place?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The answer comes from the boy with such confidence that it knocks the wind of Hajime’s lungs as he widens his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh Hajime will be there.I think I’ll be perfectly okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And for reassurance, he turns towards Iwaizumi and smiles. He doesn’t wait for an answer from Iwaizumi as if he already knows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a while before his father places his hand gently on his mother’s before nodding at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Hajime feels the breath that Tooru has been holding in go out gently. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There is the hum of satisfaction which passes through the fabric between their skin, fingers gently entwining with his below the jacket and he smiles to himself.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The fourth wandering</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The Matsushima coastline swoops out of view as Iwaizumi makes a turn for the Panorama line. Next to him, Oikawa snuggles deeper into his hoodie as he peeps outside with curious eyes. The sky is filled with blended tones of rosy pink and sandy yellows as the moon fades into a ghostly white merging with the wisps of clouds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They pass a small brown side and drive up a forested, unpaved road even as Oikawa reaches out to lightly hold his shirt. He doesn’t say a word till they reach the parking lot at the foot of steps leading up to the top of the hill. He widens his eyes when he sees the steps before turning to look at Iwaizumi, mortified.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I forgot about the steps. Shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a half balled-up fist, he looks down at his barely usable legs covered with a blanket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His lips quiver ever so slightly as he shuts his eyes tightly willing the tears to pull back. He feels the light weight of someone reaching over him and unbuckling his seat belt. And there’s a soft kiss being placed on his forehead when he opens his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t forget. And for the record, I read up about the place this time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hajime smiles at him and before he has the chance to form a reply, he is already out of the door. Oikawa watches as he crosses the car from the front and comes to his side, leaning down to peer at him through the protective screen stuck to the window. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tooru leans forward, resting his forehead on the window as he whispers loud enough for Hajime to hear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How will you take me to the top? You can’t take me by wheelchair since it’s too steep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hot rush of hopelessness crashes into his head for the first time in a long while. He had been so excited last night, practically bubbling with energy as he searched up the best angle on google and going through his journal showing Iwaizumi the pictures which he had printed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So much for the sun. I never get to win against you, do I?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should just go back or go somewhere else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels a shadow covering his face from outside making him look up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi presses his palm on the window, fingers spread as he gestures towards Tooru.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waits with his unyielding patience like always before Tooru slowly lifts his hand and presses his against the reflection of Hajime’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tooru”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a muffled voice coming through the closed window but Oikawa hears it with resounding clarity in his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to carry you up. On my back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa squints at him with a bewildered look on his face before the realization dawns on him.Iwaizumi is smiling at him before it turns to a full-blown grin and Oikawa almost settles for the grin instead of the sun. But he shakes his head ready to chastise him for what he just said. But Iwaizumi beats him to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should you not be excited your boyfriend is built enough to give you a piggyback ride up the hill? Most would kill for it actually. Besides you keep saying you like my broad back, don’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa clamps his mouth shut and feels the blush spread across his cheeks even as he rolls his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh shut up. It’s steep and I’m not exactly all bones, you know? I do have a good build.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He arches his eyebrow at his boyfriend who now looks like he is visibly offended at Tooru doubting his strength. Sighing, he caves in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine fine. You are strong. But don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Immediately Iwaizumi opens the door and crouches offering his back to Tooru. Slightly embarrassed, Oikawa looks around hoping no one is around but it’s 4 am and they both are the only souls there that day. Tentatively he places both his hands on Iwaizumi’s shoulders as he leans forward resting his weight. He half expects Iwaizumi to tumble forward but he stays rigid in his position, his one arm twisting backward to support Tooru as he grunts and gets up. For a second, they remain still as he adjusts both of them and Oikawa hides his face into the crook of Hajime’s neck. He feels the low vibration of Hajime’s laugh as they move forward. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes about fifteen minutes to reach Yukan when it should have been normally just five.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the way, Iwaizumi keeps inquiring if he is okay and at one point Oikawa has to cover his mouth worrying that he might lose his breath. He knows it doesn’t change anything but he finds himself trying to levitate his body slightly to make himself lighter somehow, earning a light smack from Iwaizumi who tells him to stay still and properly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they are about to reach the top, he squeezes his eyes shut, tightening his hold around Iwaizumi as a sudden nervousness washes over him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hajime places him gently down, turning around to wrap him in his arms as Oikawa hides his face into the curve of his broad chest for a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you ready?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He whispers into the ears of the boy in his arms even as he feels his own heartbeat accelerate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa bobs his head up and down slightly as he pulls away from Hajime.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking a long breath in, he steps away from the front opening up the view to him after pushing back his hoodie cap.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>In front of his eyes, Oikawa watches as the Matsushima Bay opens up like a folding fan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sucks in his breath sharply as the first slither of the sun peeks from the skyline in radiant white form and even as he stands there, with unblinking eyes, the tangerine ball rises slowly in canopy gold. It slowly spreads its rays, sending shimmering rays over the placid bay and the water seems to sparkle in gold as the clouds above blush like ripe mangoes. Somewhere below him, the sounds of a temple gong sounds as he feels the rays creep in. Coming up the shore, the rays colour the leaves around him in hues of red and orange and Oikawa doesn’t realize when he freezes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one knows if it’s possible to feel the ray of the sun but a sole tear rolls down his cheek when he feels the warm rays spill over onto the spot he is standing on, breaking through the leaves above him. The nascent kiss of the rays on his arm first and then slowly sliding up before washing over him in a radiant glow. His lips tremble as he closes his eyes and tilts his chin up, the cool breeze from the bay caressing his face and ruffling his hair slightly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In his mind, he is back to when he was 7 years old. Running in the garden, chasing a rolling ball while he claps in glee everytime he manages to stop it. He is 8 years old and is walking with his mom on the beach as she sings a song for him, stopping to show him the sunrise. It runs like a movie reel in his head. Cycling in the morning with his father, going to primary school with the other kids, playing outside, visiting his grandparents at the village and going fishing at dawn. They come in waves as the warmth of the sun engulfs him and burns up his soul. He feels the patches on his skin throb slightly but they are a dull pain at the back of his mind and Oikawa could care less. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By then, the tears have long rolled back as he feels the happiness burst within the tiny space of his still beating heart. He opens his eyes at the exact moment when the sun breaches through the horizon properly sending an explosion of colours throughout the sky, the blush of scarlet with a chorus of gold and interrupted blue stretching far and wide. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> His mouth wide opened, he laughs as his eyes roam the vast expanse of the sky while extending his arms out. He feels a thousand capabilities coursing through his veins and in his mind, his legs are perfectly okay and he is running along the bay. He feels light-headed as he soaks in the sight he was never promised. And for the first time, Oikawa finally understands what they mean when they say the sun has set in someone’s life. Because right then, standing at the Yukan Point, he feels so alive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He feels his leg shake as he limps forward reaching out his hand as if he can hold the sunlight in his palm. It glitters and sparkles, reflecting off the dewdrops on the leaves hanging above his head. He stumbles slightly as a hand wraps around his waist from behind, steadying him firmly. He smiles to himself as he leans back on Hajime’s chest, feeling the firmness not of the ground beneath his feet but of the one thing holding back to this earth. And he lets himself be, letting himself fall freely in ways he has never done before knowing Hajime will catch him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sun in the sky and the sun blazing next to him, he feels he should come up with something poetic for what he is feeling right now and he concludes to himself finally.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is the closest he will get to feeling heaven bound.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi has seen countless sunrises, over sky-high buildings in Tokyo, racing waters in Nagasaki and Hida Mountains. They are mundane for him, the way the sun peeks from the horizon before ascending and then leaving when the day has worn him out. They come, filtering into his room, whispering to him about the new day and that’s all there is to him. Nothing more, nothing less.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> But right now, standing on the Yukan overlooking Matsushima Bay, he watches the pale face with now- sunken eyes with the light never fading. His eyes softly trace the cracked lines on his lips, the trembling limbs, the pink criss-cross lines running beneath the whites of his skin and the dark shades of brown beneath his eyes. He looks beneath all of that and he sees thousand splendid suns break forth from within Oikawa and to Iwaizumi, he glows enough merging into one with the sky. Where it begins and where it ends, he will never know because the boy in his arms seems to light up the whole universe blurring the lines between the sky and the earth as his smile races ahead of his soul. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Hajime finally understands there is magic in the mundane today.</span>
</p><p><br/>
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the ume flowers start falling, gathering in pools around their feet, Iwaizumi knows the vibrant song of summer has given away to the soft serenade of autumn. Caramel leaves come to life twirling around in the soft evening breeze before resting on the ground as he opens the blanket. He settles down on the steps of Oikawa’s house, shivering slightly in the chilly breeze.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You will have to start clearing up your garden again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A soft voice comes from behind him as he feels the cold wind from someone brushing past him. He looks up, opening his arms</span>
  <span>, as Oikawa crawls between them tucking his head in the space between Iwaizumi’s neck and shoulder. His warm breath trickles down the line of his neck as Iwaizumi wraps the blanket around them.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What are we watching?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Perseid meteor shower. It will begin in the next thirty minutes since the forecast said it will be visible from Tohoku around 3 am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice falters in the end, coughing feebly as Iwaizumi tightens his arms around him shifting slightly so that Tooru can rest his head on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should you be staying up so late? You have been feeling more tired these days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He mumbles on top of his head, rubbing Tooru’s cold, pale hands. Of late, Hajime had been in Tooru’s room, watching as the boy fell asleep with irregular gaps. He was easily exhausted, his reaction responses becoming slow at times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am tired and actually very sleepy today. But there is no way I’m missing this. So just keep me awake till then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even as he speaks, Iwaizumi strains his ears to catch the last few words which are jumbled and spoken between his teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighs as he pulls Tooru closer to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you sleep right now? I’ll wake you up when the meteor shower starts. I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you won’t wake me up, I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa mutters grumbling with a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will see me sleeping and just let me be because there is no way you will wake me up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hajime smiles knowing the brunette’s accusation is right. Chuckling, he shakes his head slightly, resting it on Tooru’s lightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know how much you want to see this. I’ll make sure you see it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa blinks his eyes rapidly, suddenly feeling extremely sleepy and tired as his body begs to be lulled to sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Promise I’ll see it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. I do. Now here,-”,he pushes his forehead back slightly, “-rest on me and sleep. Don’t be stubborn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Humming a quiet discontent, Oikawa leans back and closes his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sleeping?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watches as Oikawa lays in his arms, his chest slowly rising and falling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs softly, staying still not to disturb the boy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then how can you respond silly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His features are softer than before, the lips curled up in a small smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi looks up at the night sky, watching the pitch-black expanse dotted with tiny flickering lights as the moon hides behind the wisps of grey clouds in the far south.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He breathes in slowly, letting the smell of damp earth and scent of the flowers fill up his senses along with the familiar scent of the boy he loves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Slept yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He enquires quietly, expecting nothing in return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet. I’m trying though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiles looking down at his serene face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When did you fall for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa’s eyebrows twitch slightly as he snuggles in deeper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That evening when you were standing in my garden. The sun was falling on you and you were smiling and I remember thinking you looked so beautiful. That's when I knew that I love you, Hajime."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi blinks his eyes slowly as he lets the words stretch out and pirouette around him. And he feels the warmth bubble in his chest before lining along the brim of his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sits there in silence holding Oikawa as the breeze picks up, shifting the clouds away from the moon, letting the silvery moonlight fall on them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he looks up again, he catches a blaze of brilliant blue running across the inky black sky as it lights up the sky for a second before disappearing into the darkness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you asleep?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waits, as his eyes remain fixated on the sky, unwilling to tear it away. There is no answer and in his head, he counts and counts but somewhere he loses the number.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess you are sleeping now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He whispers into the night, his lips quivering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ You were right. I can’t wake you up when you are sleeping so peacefully. How could I when you look so much at peace?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice is shaky as he pushes through the words which are starting to get stuck in his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fine.I won't wake you up. But you wanted to see the meteor shower, didn't you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will describe it to you so just listen okay?You can always imagine it in your head, maybe make a little doodle later in your journal."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes slowly take in the shooting stars falling diagonally across the sky even as he wills the tremor in his muscles to stay still. It's akin to the free drop of his heart inside him but he tells himself this isn't about him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You called them Perseid, didn’t you? They are beautiful, Tooru. There are so many of them streaking across the indigo black sky and some of them have such long tails. There is one that passed by which lit up the path with a tail of white tinged blue. I think one of them was a comet but you know, between the two of us, you knew the cosmos better.I am not good with words and you know that but even if you were awake, maybe you would have been speechless too. They are so beautiful right now, blazing across the sky as if they are caressing the heavens."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes fall on the pale,serene face in his arms, eyes closed with the soft semblance of a smile on his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't think I have seen anything so beautiful in my life."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ If you were awake, you would have rambled about some names and some terms which I would have never understood. You would have explained about light years and how stars are born and how they die.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels a shear of nothingness settle in his chest, the spaces in his heart suddenly too little and too tight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are very tired today,right?You have been holding out for so long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the first trickle of a teardrop rolling down the slope of his cheek. It’s the trembling in his voice as the first crack appears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were in a lot of pain, weren’t you? I won’t wake you up again so just get a lot of rest now. Don’t worry about your mom or dad. Don’t worry about me.It’s alright now, Tooru. You can sleep peacefully."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is a numbing silence and he knows there is so much more he wants to say, so much more he wants to hear from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>" Did you know? The first time I saw you,I thought you were lovely and I didn’t understand myself then but I guess my heart knew all along. You were standing there, on the street smiling up at me and god, if I understood myself a little better I would have realized you had already won me over.I remember running with you across the town as you held my hand while you weaved through people and places. On my first day, all I wanted was to share a secret with you. I thought I would be deserving of a little spark of you to call as mine. But then you went ahead and gave me your love and it made me feel like I could conquer the world. This is our little secret, isn’t it? This love of yours. This frame of you which I have come to love."</span>
</p><p>
  <span> "You were so brave. So so brave that I know the universe never won against you. Not then. Not now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hears a whimper and he knows it's his own voice, cracking at the edges as he feels the blood in his veins run cold. There is fabric and there is skin and for the first time since they first touched, Hajime knows there is no warmth seeping back to him from Tooru. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It’s so selfish of me and I have no rights to say this. But thank you for waiting,Tooru. For holding on a little bit more. You taught me that the infinite exists within counted days and I wish, god,I wish you were awake to tell me again. I don't think I have heard enough of you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But then again-”,he smiles sadly to himself, “-I will never have enough of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hajime's hands tremble as he wraps them around Tooru's, leaning in as he closes his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"One day,Tooru. One day I'll borrow the strength from you and I'll tell you of all the things you were to me. But for tonight, all I can say is thank you. For everything."</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Get some rest now, love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's a long while before he hears the door open and his parents rush out. Someone wraps him in a blanket, his muscles long gone numb. There are voices and murmerings at the back of his head and people. Lots and lots of people crowding and filling into their space. There is the sound of muffled sobs puncturing the air and someone wraps their arms around him. Someone slowly untangles them, pulling Tooru away from him and in his head, he is begging to let them be but he doesn't say a word and his hands fall limp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stands there, propped up against the wall as he watches them place Tooru's body down gently and he doesn't know when the tears start falling freely or when he starts trembling before his legs give out. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There is a pain that burns his innards, shrinking and shrivelling up his insides. It's hazy and there is nothing but blurred lines of light in front of his eyes. And his vision tunnels. The world falls away and there is just him, Tooru and the chasm between them which he can not cross. His chest isn't rising and falling anymore and there is no soft warm air escaping through the minuscule gap between his lips. Tooru is cold, so cold and he wants to pull him in closer, give him his warmth and whisper over and over again for him to wake up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he looks so peaceful, so serene as if he has been waiting to sleep for a long time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so he stays rooted, three inches away from him when the realization comes in waves, rising higher and higher before it drowns him in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span></span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Tooru has finally slept. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I AM SO SORRY.  honestly, Oikawa has been through shit in all my fics and i don't know if im just exploiting my comfort character but hehe.<br/>anyway the last scene was majorly inspired from Uncontrollably fond (This is what made me start writing  fic anyway. I built the whole fic just to add this scene lmao)<br/>I hope you guys liked it💕</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. may you burn bright</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>January 11</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi opens the car door and throws the water bottle and the chip packet to the passenger seat as he settles the papers scattered on the dashboard. Somewhere in the background he hears his parents chatting with Oikawa’s parents, standing on the sidewalk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Checking once more, he pokes his head out and looks at them, rubbing his hand and blowing warm air into his freezing hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All luggage in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His dad walks over smiling as he reaches him and pats his back. He gives his son a look up and down checking if he is wearing enough clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I have put all of them in and double-checked already. I’m more responsible than you when it comes to these things, Oto-san.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ducks his head as he sees his father jokingly reach out to whack his head. In his peripheral view, he sees the rest of the adults approaching him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa’s mother comes towards him wearing the same smile her son always wore and Hajime feels a bittersweet nostalgia spring up in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Iwaizumi, I heard your parents will meet you at the airport later and you are going somewhere else right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiles back at her before nodding, his hands shoved deep into his pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I wanted to complete it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By </span>
  <em>
    <span>it,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he knows he doesn’t have to explain what it means and he sees the glassy look spread into her eyes as she sniffles and pats him on his shoulder before reaching into the pocket of her jacket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then, when you reach there make sure you read this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hands him an envelope as Hajime stands there, frozen and surprised, his eyes immediately recognizing the handwriting scribbled on top. The familiar curves, the flying dot on top of the ‘i’. He reaches his hand out and feels his fingers wrap around the letter even as he feels a sudden urge to look up at the window, no longer covered in a blackout shade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He knew you would go back one day to complete your wanderings. Maybe that’s why he left it next to my pillow so that I can give it to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mom rubs his back gently as Hajime scrambles for words. Before he can speak he feels a warm hug as Tooru’s mother embraces him, her petite frame getting swallowed up in his muscular frame. Hajime slowly wraps his arms around, allowing her to rest for a while on his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the past few months, he had helped them clear up Tooru’s things. It had taken a toll on him first, the way he would choke up in any lingering traces of him and he would sit for hours on his window sill half expecting a shadow to emerge and call out his name. He was everywhere. Hajime had learned the town through Tooru’s eyes and every waking moment had been him mistaking empty spaces and strangers to turn around and smile at him with those brown mahogany eyes. But gradually, Hajime had grown to shelter their memories deeply in his heart, smiling fondly whenever he remembered bits of it . Laughing when he saw someone had finally stolen the old man’s signboard, finding himself ordering mint chip stracciatella, finally beginning to develop a taste for takoyaki. Tooru’s mother sat with him for hours as they went through baby albums of him, Hajime laughing as he saw a crawling 4 years old Oikawa, Oikawa stuffing cake on his face, Oikawa with his first tooth extraction and it went on. Years of Tooru he didn’t know but now remembered in the deep recess of his memory.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for loving my son.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She whispers as she smiles fondly, her eyes looking up at the cloudy winter sky. Hajime nods wordlessly as they separate, a tender understanding hanging in the air between them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Turning sideways, he looks at his parents once before turning around and stepping into his car.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll get going then. I’ll see you guys in the evening at the airport. Oba-san, Take care. I’ll be back soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he pulls away, he sees his mother hugging Tooru’s mother while his father waves at him and Hajime dares once, with a beating heart, to look at the empty room. He knows there is nothing but a neatly made bed and a settled desk with a photo frame of Tooru playing the piano but Hajime still hopes and hopes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the receding sight, he thinks he sees the shadow of a boy standing under the streetlamp and smiling at him, his perfectly tousled hair ruffled by the winter wind.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The drive to Yuriage is long and he sighs as he rolls the window down allowing the chilly wind to whip past his face. He switches on the headlights as the light snowfall makes the air misty, hiding the struggling rays of the sun. His breath pale against the numbing cold, Hajime blinks as he feels the frost gently kiss his face before rolling up the window. Rows and rows of snow-covered houses zoom in and vanish into the white of the snow before he finds himself alone on the highway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reaching over, he fiddles with the radio as he rests his one elbow on the side. The statics cackle for a while before he stumbles on a channel and he leans back, turning his head to admire the snow-laden branches of trees.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Now coming up next, we have a song perfectly suitable for this wonderful winter morning. After it featured in a moving video that went viral, we now have ‘Between the stars’ by  Canyon City playing for you. Stay tuned.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hajime sits up as he catches the last words, his hand on the steering wheel trembling slightly before he slowly increases the volume. The acoustic guitar quietly fills the silence in the car as he smiles tentatively and in his mind, he hears a familiar voice singing next to him. There is the smile he loves and the vibration of Tooru’s chest as he rests in Hajime’s arms and sings only for him. He’s no more on the highway but back in the small music store where he first heard Tooru sing and then they are on the steps of the plaza in the music festival with flashing neon lights. And he finally understands what Tooru meant when he told him to remember the sounds of him because right now, cruising on a snow-covered highway, all he hears is his voice filling up his senses.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You feel the timing start to slip</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We’ll meet again one day I hope</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Like midnight waves of passing ships</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When you feel the dreams collide</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He lets out an amusing snicker as he runs his hand through his hair. What could be the odds that this song had to play on the radio?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“</span>
  </em>
  <span>You sure are something aren’t you, Tooru.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the wipers move across the windscreen and the snowfall reduces, Hajime sings the last few lines out loud and when the smile reaches his tear-filled eyes, he knows this is him healing.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Is it as lonely in between the stars?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>As I've been back home watching from far away</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wonder where you are</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Did you look back as you crossed the moon?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do you wonder if I wonder 'bout you?</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The signboard saying ‘Welcome to Yuriage’ looms in and he sees his phone light up from the corner of his eyes as his Google map comes to life. 500 meters more and he knows this comes to an end.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Their wanderings, the last remaining dredges of the summer and his final moments in Miyagi before he leaves.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He slows down a little, breathing as he runs over the thought in his head and it’s a swirling tempest of nervousness. If he turns back now, he could go on pretending the summer never ended and he doesn’t have to close this chapter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he can’t because he is here and the car is moving and he leaves in the next four hours and he sees the milestone sooner than he expects. And he is turning away from the main road into the narrow lane moving closer because he knows Tooru is waiting, somewhere here to complete their last wandering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sees the bend and he knows even before he sees the small wooden signboard hidden in the thick snow. Because it is a lovely place and because it is exactly what Tooru would have chosen. And he imagines him in his head, sitting over his map in his old grey shirt as he marks the last place. Hajime wonders if Tooru was thinking of anything specific when he chose this place because this was not written in the journal, there were no clippings and no doodles. Just the name scribbled on the page.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He parks the car and steps out slowly after killing the engine, his feet immediately sinking into the snow. In front of him, there is nothing but a small stone set in the snow with an inscription on it. And there are flowers. Flowers of all kinds kept on top of each other, resting on the cold slab but alive under the warm sun which is starting to ascend higher into the sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He steps closer and his eyes immediately make out the letters inscribed on it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>For those so dearly loved and for  the never forgotten ones,</b>
</p><p>
  <b>For those who need warmth in the cold, for the weary to rest and for those who have slept. We remember them and we welcome you. Come and rest here.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hajime knows why Tooru chose this place. For him and for them. For him to heal and for Tooru who was a weary traveller who has finally slept. This is his last gift to Hajime and he knows Tooru added this place in the end after he met Hajime. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trembling,he settles on a stone slab next to it, thankful for the firmness and solid sturdy hold underneath him, as he pulls out the letter from the pocket in his chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The feeble rays of the sun fall on him as he sits there looking at the first line unable to move past it. There are millions of thoughts running in his head, none he can answer nor get an answer to. He feels everything at once, the cold, the warmth, the scent of the sweet sickly lilies mixed with those of wisteria, the aching hollowness and the insatiable love of thousands resting on the memorial stone next to him. And there is a love that stands out so glaringly, of a boy who never came here yet left his lingering traces in Hajime sitting there with a letter in his hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There is a moment of stillness when he closes his eyes and then he unfolds the paper, slowly taking in each word.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dear Hajime,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I typed this letter out the first time because I was afraid you would not be able to read my letter handwritten with a shaky, barely moving hand. But it felt wrong, so wrong. The way it was written in Georgia, 11 size font by a computer and somehow it looked like my diagnosis report so I tore it up. Then one night, I wrote the first line in my messy handwriting and almost threw the paper before I realized you wouldn't care. Not because of any other reasons but because that’s how you always have been. Because of who you exactly are. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You came tumbling into my life and for the first time, saw me as someone more than this disease. You were there, across the street ready to yell at me at 3am and under all that tired rage on your first day you still could not hide the warmth that is in you. You came along and I felt like I could finally run free. And run, I did. I never thought this summer would bring you to me and I am so glad, so damn glad I waited. You are everything to me, do you know? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I remember watching you from my room and wondering how this quiet boy from Tokyo ended up being the one to hold my heart right before I had to give it away. But I had no answer to it except with you, I felt a little brighter, a little braver and so alive. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So thank you. Thank you Hajime for loving me. When you leave this town and this place, I hope I finally gave you the best summer I promised. I’m sorry it was so short. The day I don’t make it through the night, I hope you will understand that when I left I was happy.   </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hajime, I know you never allowed me to bring this up. But somewhere in the future,whoever gets the privilege of being loved by you, I hope they keep your heart safe. I hope they know that beneath the strong boy, there is unmatched gentleness and I, Oikawa Tooru can absolutely vouch for it. And if I had the chance and the time, I would have cradled your heart and kept it tucked in the safest corner of my world. I would have fought for you but I'm not selfish so one day, I really hope you give someone the best of all seasons. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I know you will get busy when you move to the states and I really wish I was there on the other end of the phone to hear you talk about Irvine like you talked about Tokyo. But hey it’s gonna be a little longer phone line and free of charge. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So when you need a quiet laughter or someone to hold you, when you need to rest or need a song for tough nights, just look up. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m right here, always. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You were my midnight sun, Hajime.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I love you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Hajime doesn’t know when the tears roll down the slope of his cheek, he is shaking and it has nothing to do with the cold and for the first time, in a long,long while, he finally feels like he is breathing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wonders if Tooru wrote one line each day and flinches at the pain he must have gone through to write. And then he sees his face, smiling softly at him as his eyes light up the room. And he reads and reads again till he has learned the words up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sunlight is stronger now and he looks up as the clouds drift away letting the sky shine in its blue-grey glory. All around him, there is nothing but the white snow and he laughs in his chest because that’s the beginning and the ending point. Tome with its white-washed houses and now Yuriage with its snow-covered landscape. It’s not that the artists forgot to finish the painting. It’s that all the colours merged into one in full brightness and he breathes out with quivering lips as he thinks, Tooru was a kaleidoscope in full brightness and he makes white look very very pretty.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hajime knows he will never finish falling in love with Tooru because between then and now, between now and the unknown future, he will always have so much love for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raising a hand up to shield his eyes, he squints at the sun as he smiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s cold now Tooru. Winter finally came so keep warm in your stay up there, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At the back of his head, he sees a smiling boy grinning at him with the glow from the streetlight falling on his head. There is a soft call of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Iwachan </span>
  </em>
  <span>echoing down the streets and there is him disappearing behind his door with a promise to see him tomorrow. He thinks of his flight in the next few hours and he thinks of how high up he will be in the sky.  </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>And so he whispers into the empty space, to the snow, to the distance between them and to the boy burning so brightly high up above.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“See you tomorrow, Tooru.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I can't believe some of yall made it this far. Honestly, I'm still learning to write and this was new. I have never written a fic with full plot since I am used to one-shots and abstract writing. But I tried and If I didn't write this, the story would have stayed stuck in my head. So thank you for reading this. if you liked it, please do leave comments and share.<br/>Thank you so much.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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